


Emergency Date Jacket

by Ayame_no_kimi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Background Finnrey, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic fluff to angst I'm not sorry (with happy ending), Hux acts like he is not a bloody colonizer and cooks with spices, Hux redemption arc, I constantly forget that BB-8 exists sorry about that, I do what I want with the canon material deal with it, I started writing this before TROS came out and I'm not changing anything, I'm a fake geek gremlin who doesn't know anything about Star Wars and it shows, Leia is still alive (and stays alive), M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Nobody important dies you can relax, Rose gets a girlfriend, Sorry I kinda fridged Kylo Ren for this one I just really didn't want to put him into the story, mentions of past sexual abuse (not in regards to characters present), so just act like TROS never happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 72,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23963617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayame_no_kimi/pseuds/Ayame_no_kimi
Summary: I started writing this before TROS came out and I decided to leave it that way. Pretend TROS didn't happen. Also, canon is dead.The Resistance wins, Hux gets captured, Poe cannot stay away. Can someone with Hux's rap sheet really redeem himself, considering he doesn't even want to be redeemed?I know, I still owe you an ending to Queen of Naboo, I'm sorry. But I can promise you, that this story right here is finished. I've written every word of it, all that remains is uploding them. Short chapters, but as compensation I'll upload a new chapter every Saturday, Tuesday and Thursday.Just as a warning, this is the fic that traumatized my husband so much that he now has emotional trust issues when it comes to reading my stuff (not because of the violence or anything. Just, well, you’ll find out.)
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 312
Kudos: 196





	1. 1

Had anyone asked Poe Dameron, ace pilot extraordinaire, six days or weeks or months ago, he would have agreed that yes, of course, the moment the Resistance won this war he would be in the middle of all celebrations. He would be raising his glass to General Organa and the fallen Master Skywalker and Han Solo. He would be dancing with Chewbacca and sit around fires with old comrades, shedding tears for their fallen allies and making grandiose speeches about the future.

The first day went like this, but it was when Poe woke up with a grizzly hangover the next noon that the assault on his heart occurred.

The Snoggening.

Him stumbling to the outer washing room of the Resistance Base to plunge his head into cold water, only to cross paths with Finn and Rey, sitting in the corner, smashing mouths together. Their mouths. Repeatedly. With sucking and smacking and hums and lots of touching.

Poe hurled in the washing room.

It should not have come as a surprise, not after their last mission, after they fought together perfectly in sync, using the Force as though they were both born with it. (They probably were.) They have been inseparable since. Finally admitting their feelings for each other and giving in to the attraction seems only a natural next step in their partnership.

Except for the not-so-small part in Poe that truly, genuinely believed that there was a spark between him and Finn. That had hoped the one receiving the hero’s kiss at the end of their journey would be him. That part has died now, shrivelled up and blown away like a beheaded dandelion in the wind.

The party goes on for three more days, but for Poe that time passes in depression and growing restlessness while he waits to get back to the truly important things. Nothing heals a broken heart like a couple of dangerous flight missions to the last hideouts of First Order sympathizers. He hangs around General Organa a lot in the hope she might give him some task other than moping around. No such luck.

“We’ll have time for clean-up next week,” she admonishes him before she shoos him from her circle of fire brandy and snooker. “Go have fun, you deserve it.”

On his way back to the main canteen he happens upon Rey, sitting on Finn’s lap, describing their last combat to a group of young Resistance fighters who stayed behind.

“And right when I thought they had me, I cast the lightsaber to Finn,” Rey tells with wide gestures. “I didn’t see him, but I could feel him and I just knew.” She closes her eyes.

“And I caught it,” Finn finishes, grinning from ear to ear. Happiness looks good on him; Poe has to admit that. He could have made Finn happy. “And I sliced right through them, as though the Force was telling me what to do.”

Collective gasps from their audience. Finn sees him and waves enthusiastically, but then Rey turns to him and whispers something and Finn laughs and bounces his knee. Poe trudges on. He has almost made it into his quarters when the alarm on his intercom beeps. In the lowest level of confinement something has disturbed the security system.

Poe takes a look around. No one else seems to have noticed the alarm. Alcohol is flowing freely the longer the night drags on, and people have heroic tales to tell and songs to bawl. He heaves a deep sigh as he passes through the sliding doors leading downstairs into the confinement area where they keep the leaders of the First Order stashed away while they are waiting for the Federate War Justice Court to prepare the trials. BB-8 stays behind on the upper levels.

The first underground floor holds mostly lieutenants and lower ranking officers. On the second floor they come closer to admirals. Several people keep watch here, but they too have drunk and are embroiled in a high-stakes game of Uno. The third floor holds only a single cell. Other than the rest of the cells with steel doors and small windows, this one has a duro-glass front made to watch everything that is going on inside. The only privacy granted is a short wall keeping toilet and sonic shower out of sight. Everything else, the bed in the right corner, the table with two chairs, the dispenser on the left side providing water and simple meals, are kept in plain sight, all of them in a garish white so bright it hurts the eye. The prisoner inside, dressed in plain grey trousers and a dark grey shirt with a blue jacket is sitting on his bed, one knee drawn up, head leaning against the wall, eyes closed.

Poe searches the hallway for the disturbance to the alarm. Everything seems perfectly normal, but then his eyes fall upon a little piece of fabric clinging to the duro-glass door, right in the field of the infrared security shield. He bends down, picks up the fabric and resets the alarm. No grounds for worry.

“Come to torture me?”

Poe straightens his back.

Hux has opened his eyes and fixed them on Poe, watery blue following his movements as Poe pockets the morsel and fastens the intercom back to his belt.

“Torture you,” Poe repeats. He has no good memories of this man, only his perpetual sneer, while his goons tortured him with the crudest methods possible. And then of course their ongoing friendly rivalry where Poe thought of new insults to send via airwaves and Hux in response murdered large numbers of Resistance members.

“We don’t torture,” Poe says. He steps up to the glass. He has not wasted much thought on their most prominent prisoner since they captured him a week ago on a small ship on its way to catching up with the main fleet. “We are not the First Order. We treat our prisoners like human beings, even the ones that don’t deserve it.”

Hux watches him without a shift in his expression. For the last couple of weeks, whenever Poe caught a glimpse of his face, it was distorted in rage, positively manic, reddened with glistening eyes while he screamed orders like a madman and seemed to hate everyone and everything, especially his own people. The rage has vanished, as has the unhinged glow in his eyes. If anything, he looks almost relaxed now; not even his usual sneer wrinkles his nose. The sonic shower comes with a razor function, so his jaw is free of stubble, but his hair has lost the tons of product he shoved in there. Instead of being slicked back it falls into his eyes now, much softer than before.

“Pity,” Hux mutters. “Would have made things more interesting.”

“That bored, huh?”

“There must be things you want to know from me.”

Poe shrugs. “Not really. We got everything under control.”

Hux’s eyes narrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know. We’re-” His breath falters in his throat. “Wait. You don’t know. We captured you before the final confrontation. Nobody has told you, have they?”

Hux’s lips thin and there comes the sneer. “Told me what? What is happening out there?”

“Man. Oh man.” For the first time in three days Poe can barely hide his grin. He is going to be the one to tell Hux. That pleasure is all his to enjoy. He should film this moment. “You lost. We won. We destroyed the First Order. All your big ships are gone, all your leaders captured. The rest have surrendered. We have officially reinstated the Federate Republic.”

Hux has raised his head from the wall to stare at Poe. “You’re kidding.”

“Blazes, you didn’t even get to witness your final hour. You were locked in here while the First Order went up in flames, that must suck so hard.” Poe makes no effort to suppress his grin anymore.

Hux lowers a trembling hand to the bed frame. “You are lying.”

“Read it yourself.”

He opens the news report on his data pad, the one he has carried around with him since the news came out. _Coruscant Times_ might be a bit stiff for Poe’s taste, but their reporting is trustworthy. He holds the data pad to the duro-glass. Hux stands up and comes closer. In front of the glass he halts. His eyes flit across the lines as he reads.

“Scroll.”

Poe scrolls.

Hux reads.

“Scroll.”

It’s a long article and Poe begins to admire Hux’s composure and his iron will to read through all of it without so much as moving a muscle, when Hux leans his head against the glass, face downward. Poe lowers the data pad and steps back. He watches as Hux’s shoulders tremble, then shake. He waits for the scream of rage, for wails and curses. It takes him a minute to realize in shock what is actually happening.

“Are you… laughing?”

Shaking from head to toe, Hux looks up. Tears twinkle in his eyes. His cheeks have reddened. He throws back his head and laughs out loudly, the sound reverberating from the empty walls. He wipes at his eyes but the tears stream faster than he can vanish them.

“Wow.” Poe pockets his data pad. “Okay. I guess that’s one way to process the news.”

“Gone.” Hux lowers his head and stares at Poe, still grinning wildly. “It’s all gone. They fucked it up.” He laughs again. “Is Kylo Ren dead?”

“Ah.” Poe clears his throat. “He’s actually kinda the only one who got away. We have no idea where he is, but he has no one left to turn to. We’re searching for him as we speak and the moment he turns up-”

“Have you looked at the Crostia asteroid cluster?”

Poe closes his mouth. They know that the asteroid cluster at the outer rim served as First Order hideout for years, but according to their sources it has been deserted for at least six months. “No.”

“Might want to start there.”

“Why- why are you telling me this? Is this a trap?”

“That’s for you to find out.” Hux walks back to his bed and sits down. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve.

“Seriously, shouldn’t you protect him?”

Hux snorts. “The man I hate more than anything in the Galaxy? What do I care if you capture him? Better yet, kill him. He had it coming.”

Poe shakes his head. He never assumed Hux would be a likeable man, but even for an asshole who blows up whole planets talking like that about one of his closest associates seems cold.

“What happens now?” Hux asks. “If you’re not going to torture me, what am I doing here?”

“Waiting for trial. Should be another couple of weeks. Then you’ll stand trial, be sentenced and probably spend the rest of your life in high security prison.”

Hux closes his eyes again. “Funny. Shouldn’t this be a joyous day for you? Aren’t you going to celebrate your victory, or are you too righteous even for celebration? Is it overthrow a government, then right on to the next task?”

“Oh, there’s celebrations.” Poe gnaws at his bottom lip. “Didn’t feel much like celebrating tonight.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I got a lot on my mind.”

Silence falls.

At some point the frustration becomes too much. Right now it wants out and since there is barely more for Hux to do than listen, anyway, Poe stops resisting. “Like, I never thought I’d want to be Force sensitive, but now I feel like I’m left out since I’m not.”

In his mind he goes through every piece of intel they have on Hux. None of them says anything about Force sensitivity. “You’re not, are you?”

“Not even the slightest bit.” Hux raises a hand to his temple and ruffles it through his hair. Back on the dreadnought he seemed powerful. Near indestructible. Here in this cell, without uniform or weapon or stormtroopers, he looks smaller, less larger-than-life. In fact, he looks like a man, skin almost as white as the room, red hair and a handful of freckles on his face and hands a stark contrast.

Poe looks down to his feet, hands in his pockets, then looks up again.

“You’re not the same as them,” Hux says. His hand kneads his neck. “You will never be. At first, the difference will be barely noticeable. You’re you, after all, and that should be enough, right? Most people are not Force sensitive. But the more time you spend with them, the more time they have to develop their own little world that just so happens to have no room for you, the more you begin to realize that there are two levels of humans. You and them. Now if it were physical prowess or smarts or weapon proficiency, you could train that. But the Force, you either have it or you don’t. It follows no rules. It doesn’t chose the wisest nor the strongest. It could fall on anybody, but wherever it lands power follows.”

Hux stands up again. He takes off his jacket and hangs it over one of the chairs, then moves on to the dispenser to draw himself a cup of water.

“You have already lost. You are alone now. You might think they are different, that there is no way the people close to you could do something as heartless as that. Give it time. Force sensitives are drawn to other Force sensitives. It’s a law of nature. And then the moment will come when they accept it as a law of nature that they are more than you, more than humans. And you’ll never understand why.”

Hux raises his cup and fixates Poe with a cynical curl of his lips. “So here’s to your victory over the First Order. Enjoy the euphoria while it lasts.”

He drops the cup. It clatters to the ground and spills water over his feet, splashing against his trousers. Hux does not even flinch.

Poe tears away his eyes and turns from the cell back upstairs. He avoids the party and heads straight for his room, BB-8 in his trail.


	2. 2

Picking up the pieces in the aftermath of the last confrontation leaves people exhausted more mentally than physically. Stormtroopers that have surrendered need places to stay and evaluation of how much they have been victims of brainwashing and how much of a threat they still pose. Large corporations spanning several planets have turned out to be sponsors of the First Order. They have turned their heads owl-like one hundred and eighty degrees the moment they realized they were on the losing side, but the fact remains that they have subsidized a murderous military machine that has claimed billions of lives. The loss of people, institutions, and culture with the pulverisation of Hosnian Prime still ripples through the Galaxy while other planets try to find back to a government that does not allow for a single organisation to take over all sovereignty.

Kylo Ren remains lost. Although General Organa has taken the hint with Crostia into consideration, right now they have more urgent matters to attend. There are still First Order bases out there that need to be cleaned out. The Federate War Justice Court needs to be up and running as quickly as possible, but the only judges available are the same old, conservative ones that have allowed the First Order to rise to power in the first place.

Frustration and hope struggle against each other in the base whenever Poe returns from one of his missions. The other pilots and fighters remain tense; every other night they party and bellow their souls out with karaoke and too much cheap hooch, but brawls break out almost every time, the more violent the more alcohol has flown.

The first thing Poe wants to do when he returns from ten days following a distress signal that turned out to stem from a destroyed star cruiser, is run up to Finn and get a hug and sit around rekindling hope for a future that will soon become better, has to. But when he strolls through the base, greeting colleagues and chatting about recent missions, his eyes catch his favourite ex-stormtrooper in the training hall with Rey, doing some kind of shadow boxing but with lightsabers. He stands in the doorframe to watch them for a while, still hopeful that Finn might abandon his practice the moment he sees him, but then Rey stops and wipes off her sweat and they hold hands and whisper softly to each other, giving each other nose kisses and blissful smiles. Poe leaves before he gags.

They party again that night. Finn invites Poe for a beer and for maybe fifteen minutes they sit at the bar counter and swap stories. Poe tells Finn about the distress call. Finn watches him describe the wreckage, eyes on Poe’s hands as he gesticulates through the air, eager smile on his lips. It feels so good to be the sole centre of his attention that Poe embellishes his story, launches himself into a description of details he might have borrowed from other missions. But right as he reaches the good part – the huge, kraken-like monster wrapped around the nose of the cruiser – Rey slides onto the chair next to Finn and tugs at his elbow.

“I signed us up for a duet.” She points at the karaoke machine where an enraptured Rose delivers a beautiful rendition of _Another Night on Coruscant_. “Come on, we’re next.”

“Sorry, bud,” Finn says and stands up, dragged by Rey. “Tell me the rest later, okay?”

As they leave Poe frozen on his chair, Rey asks in a barely hushed voice, “Did you tell him how they shot at you and you stopped their shots mid-air and sent them back?”

“Shh,” Finn mutters back. “Didn’t want to brag.”

Poe turns to his halfway finished beer. A punch in the guts wouldn’t be as painful as this. He leaves the bottle and the bar behind and stumbles outside. Even though he hasn’t even finished his first drink his world is spinning and his stomach is churning. The base with all his friends, his comrades of years of embittered battle, has lost its welcoming warmth. Suddenly he is done with all of it. When BB-8 bleeps at him, he sends it to his room. Not even the droid provides him comfort tonight.

A group of soldiers rushes past, young ones he barely knows. They whisper excitedly, but when they see him they shut up. One of them elbows another, who hisses something. Any other day Poe would stop them to ask what is going on. He used to be one of those guys, five years ago, not long enough for him not to remember what the face of someone about to break some rules looks like.

Tonight he does not care. He barely pays attention as they take the stairs to the underground levels with the confinement cells. It is only when the second group of youths rushes past him, yelling something into their intercoms as they push into the narrow hallway leading downstairs, that concern bubbles up in Poe. He waits for the young men to vanish, before he follows them.

The stairs lead him down to the first floor, but everything is quiet here. He opens the sliding doors to the next level and climbs further down. On the second floor, the whooping and cheering of at least ten men reaches his ears, drifting upwards from the third level. His palms prickle as he takes the last flight of stairs.

Young men and a few women crowd on the stairs, in the hallway, and in the break area for the watch posts a few yards before the cell that holds Hux. That held Hux. Three men in the middle of the break area, the tallest one the leader of the young squad, Fendec. Hot-blooded, easily enraged, prideful of his own strength and modest abilities to play with the Force, he has forced Poe more than once to abandon his pal mode and assume mentor mode. Fendec and his cronies, Crad and Joras, have booked more hours of cleaning duty as punishment than the whole rest of the squad combined. Now Crad and Joras are holding up Hux by his arms while Fendec strides along the circle that has formed around them. The young fighters cheer and whoop as Fendec pumps his fist in the air. Broken skin and dark red bruises in Hux’s face tell Poe that this has been going on for a while.

“Again!” the crowd yells and Fendec grins.

He plants himself in front of Hux and pulls back his fist before he swings it right into Hux’s jaw. Part of Poe cheers when it collides with a satisfying crack, sending Hux’s head back as he rocks against the hands of his captors. His legs scramble on the floor and when Fendec yells the order, Crad and Joras drop him like a sack of flour to the ground. Hux folds in on himself, blood splattering from his nose and mouth. All three men land hard kicks into his stomach and back, laughing as Hux gasps for air.

Hux has deserved it, the side of Poe that rejoices at the sight of him writhing in pain whispers. The men have deserved the catharsis of making him pay for his violence.

Poe shakes his head, shoves through the crowd, and yanks Fendec back by the shoulder. “Have you lost your damn minds?”

All three men stop kicking. Hux is not moving anymore, wheezing softly while blood trickles from his nose onto the floor.

“What are you, a bunch of wild animals?” Poe chides so loud everyone in the room can hear him. The first bunch, the smartest ones, has understood that they have overstepped a line, and vanishes up the stairs. “We are the Resistance! We don’t hurt our prisoners, no matter what they have done. Aren’t you ashamed to kick someone defenceless, you damn cowards?”

Some of the men mutter to themselves, shooting glares at Hux.

Poe has no patience for them. He shakes Fendec’s shoulder, pushes him away from Hux. “Are you seriously not man enough to go against someone who fights back? Huh? You’re no better than the First Order! Leave, all of you!”

Most understand his message the first time. The crowd disperses so fast one could think he has dropped a stink bomb. The only three that remain are Fendec, Crad, and Joras.

“That goes for the three of you as well.” Poe shoves at Crad. “Tomorrow morning I expect all three of you on the training grounds at four thirty sharp. You’ll clean the whole base and you’ll do it before seven in the morning. Are we understood?”

Finally, they react. They salute, almost crying at their punishment. “Yes, Commander Dameron!”

Before Poe can threaten more consequences they scramble towards the stairs. Suddenly Poe finds himself alone in the room, an unconscious Hux to his feet and no one left to help him. He should have planned this better.

Cursing, he squads down and feels Hux’s pulse. Badly battered, but alive. Dark red and purple bruises form where the men have beaten him. The dribble of blood from his nose and his mouth has formed a puddle on the floor.

He opens the cabinet at the wall and takes out the first aid kit. Scans Hux’s body for injuries. Someone stepped on his hand and broke three bones. The kicks broke two ribs. A nasty kick in his abdomen has caused a major swelling that will need some care to recede. Nothing life-threatening, but even for that amount of kicks, Hux went down too easily. He holds the scanner to Hux’s neck and it pricks his skin and draws a drop of blood.

Finally things make sense. Dragging Hux from his cell has activated the wristband with the alarm and the mechanism that released an anaesthetic into Hux’s blood. He must have been drugged before they even started beating him up. The fact that no alarm has alerted Poe also means that whoever held watch must have deactivated it before anyone could notice.

Poe shakes his head in disgust. No matter the shit Hux has done, this kind of treatment is shameful. The scanner asks him if he requires the assistance of a physician. He confirms, then he takes the stretcher from the cabinet, activates it, and as gently as possible rolls Hux onto the stretcher. The stretcher drifts upwards and hovers in mid-air, ready to follow him. Poe pulls it back into the cell and rolls Hux onto the bed. As the scanner suggests he uses the med-ex spray to treat the wounds on his face. Before he is done, steps echo from the staircase.

The physician, Doctor Ode, enters the cell. She takes one look at Hux and heaves an exhausted sigh.

“Do we know who did it?”

“The youth squad. I’m going to write up their names.”

“You need to report this to General Organa, you know.” She bends down and frees Hux of his clothes, then runs her own scanner over his body. Where the bruises on his face looked painful, the spread of blotchy red on his abdomen churns nausea in Poe’s stomach.

“I know.”

“Not like the bastard didn’t deserve it.”

“How does it look?”

She pushes a syringe into the worst part of the swelling. “He’ll live. Just his luck that the drug worked so well.” She uses her electronic fingerprint to open the wristband. “This one’s useless. I’ll get a new one.”

“He spit up blood.”

“Bit his tongue. Nothing serious.” She sticks a pad with med-ex fluid to his abdomen, another one to his chest, one to a dark bruise on his upper arm.

Here on his bed, painted in the colours of a slaughtered pig, Hux could be another victim and nothing more. Poe stares at his gaunt face, struck by the realization that the head of the First Order – the one that hunted them to the rim of the Galaxy, that appeared everywhere they tried to gain a foot of advantage, that prevailed even after Snoke died, after Kylo Ren had his breakdown and started going berserk, all of that is just one man. One small man, as easily breakable as anybody else.

Poe leans against the wall. Doctor Ode pulls the blanket over Hux’s body and stands up.

“I am going to get a new wristband issued. Can you stay here, watch him for a bit?”

He nods.

She takes out a bottle with clear fluid, opens it, and upends a small package with powder in it. “If he wakes up, give him this. It should help, but he has to drink it all.”

“Gotcha.”

She leaves him alone with the unconscious Hux. Poe sits down at the table, watching the blanket rise and fall with shallow breaths, the soft whistle of his inhale through a nose clotted with blood. His mind replays the moment Fendec’s fist collided with Hux’s jaw – the crack, the splatter of blood, the jolt that went through his body at the impact.

When they captured Hux three weeks ago, he was unconscious, knocked out by the explosion that blasted apart half of the starfighter. Poe wanted him awake, wanted him to fight them in a last match, wanted to smash his fist into that face so badly his arm kept twitching. Part of him kept that grudge against Hux, for being unconscious and robbing him of that moment.

_Should have done it anyway._

The catharsis was short-lived. All he feels now is frustration at his own men and their cruelty. Beating up Hux does not change the magnitude of the task that lies before them. It does not change the billions of lives lost, the pains they had to endure to fight this fight. The thing that changed their chances was capturing Hux in the first place. It was the stormtroopers seeing their general as prisoner of the Resistance, and their resulting surrender. Beating up Hux did not ignite the spark of hope that caused remnants of the Federation army to join them and fill their spotty lines.

The Resistance under the insistence of General Organa has shown leniency towards all their prisoners, keeping them well-fed and unharmed in secure cells, because they all have seen enough violence. They need benevolence more than a short-lived catharsis. Poe was the first to defend General Organa’s decision to treat even the worst of their prisoners with humanity.

On the bed Hux moans softly. A shudder works through him from head to toe, then his right eyelid flutters. Poe stands up and walks over to the bed.

Hux draws in a deep breath, falters, then starts coughing. His shoulders shake as he pushes himself upright, coughing and wheezing, flinching in pain every time his chest contracts.

“Stop coughing,” Poe says. “You’ve two broken ribs, it’s gonna hurt.”

Sitting up, Hux opens his right eye, the one not swollen shut, and takes stock of his environment, before he squeezes it shut again. Another fit shakes him, followed by a pained groan.

Poe lays a hand on his shoulder and draws him a bit more upright. “Seriously, stop coughing.”

Hux’s fingers clench around his hand while his throat works to suppress the coughs, tears streaming down his battered face in strain. He takes a shaky breath, then another one. Slowly his fits calm down. Meanwhile, Poe’s fingers caught in Hux’s grip turn numb.

He reaches for the bottle on the floor and holds it up. “Doctor says this should help.”

Hux shakes his head, but he lets go of Poe’s fingers and takes the bottle. He forces down a few sips, then starts coughing again, then utters a groan of pain.

“How you feeling?” Poe asks.

The good eye opens again, fixates its watery stare on Poe.

“Great,” Hux croaks. “Haven’t felt better in ages. In fact, I might be wrong but I think… yeah, definitely, my back pain is gone. Amazing.”

Poe stares at him open-mouthed for a moment. “Was that- did you just make a joke?”

“Impossible.” Hux closes his eye and leans his head against the wall. “I haven’t had a sense of humour ever since I joined the First Order. They make you give it away at the entrance, you know.”

Despite himself, Poe grins. “Blazes, it’s true. You’re being funny.”

“You take that back. I don’t even know the meaning of the word funny.”

“Stop it,” Poe snickers. “You’re making me laugh.”

Hux lifts the bottle to his lips again, groans from the effort, then takes a sip. “This tastes like piss.”

“It’s medicine. It’s not supposed to taste amazing.”

“So the guys that beat me up…”

“Yeah, they’re gonna be on toilet duty for a while. That was not okay.”

“Pity. I was gonna say they sound like the most likeable bunch in your whole operation.”

Poe shakes his head. “Shut your mouth and drink. I thought you’d be seething.”

“The only guy who makes me seethe is you. Do you get off on righteousness? Does it turn you on to play hero in a pit full of vermin? Oh, you must think you’ve earned a whole ton of shining knight points, rescuing the poor evil monster from the cruelty of your own people. How truly magnanimous of you.”

Poe grabs a handful of ginger hair, pulls Hux’s head back, and thrusts the bottle against his teeth. “Drink and shut up. I’ve saved you from serious injury; I don’t expect thanks but at least keep your mouth closed so I don’t let you hang there a bit longer next time.”

As the fluid runs between his teeth, Hux swallows, left hand – the one not in a splint – scrambling against Poe’s chest to push him away. Only when the bottle is half empty does Poe let go of him.

“Better?” he asks.

“I don’t care,” Hux hisses after a new coughing fit. “I told you. Torture me if you must, everything’s better than being locked in here all day without anything to keep me occupied.”

“Trust me, torture’s worse. You know how I know that? Because I got tortured. By your men. You were in the room, remember that? Good times.”

“Well, torture looks different for everyone.”

“Actually there is a very official definition by the Federate War Crimes Council, so no, you can’t just call everything torture you personally dislike.”

“I know,” Hux growls. “I’ve read the Charta and last time I checked, solitary confinement was still part of the torture definition.”

Poe’s mouth snaps shut. He stares at Hux, who is feeling along the splint on his right arm, to the med-ex pack on his shoulder.

“Right,” he finally says. “I’m… there are things we can’t change. We’re not doing this to torment you, but because you’re too dangerous to keep around the others. It’s a necessity, not a torture device.”

“Spare me your righteous explanation.” Apparently satisfied with his examination, Hux leans back against the wall and closes his good eye. He empties the bottle, grimaces, then thrust it outward.

Poe takes it and sets it down on the table. “In any case, it’s not going to happen again. We’ll have a serious talk with our men and make sure that you’re properly protected.”

“You’ve been tortured.” Hux wipes the traces of tears from his cheek. “Tell me, what was worse, the physical pain, or having your mind violated and all thoughts ripped out of you without the power to fight back even remotely?”

Poe stumbles back. Cold dread seeps into his chest, forms crystals around his heart. He sinks onto the closest chair. “You mean… what Kylo Ren did.”

“Sure do.”

“How do you- he did it to you, too?”

“Ren? No.” Hux sneers. “As if I’d let that drivelling weakling ever anywhere close to my mind. Keeping Ren out is simple. Snoke on the other hand…”

Poe’s lips have turned numb. “He read your mind.”

“All the damn time. Loved it, too, especially since he knew how much it hurt. Loved to rummage around and pull every damn little thought out into the open. Loved it when it made me throw up, when I hated him so much for it that it crawled all over my skin.” Hux exhales a feeble laugh. “Ren, had he ever known how much I hated them both, him and Snoke, he’d have killed me on the spot. But not Snoke, no, he revelled in it.”

Poe’s breathing has turned shallow. The one time Kylo Ren dragged the truth about the map out of his mind had left him shaken for longer than any amount of physical torture could ever do. The idea of having it done to him again and again…

“Why stay?” Asks it before his reason can stop him.

Hux opens his right eye, casts him half a glance. “Stay.”

“Why stay loyal to people who’d do that to you on a regular basis just for fun?”

Hux heaves a laugh, followed by a pained wheeze. “Power. You want to know what he called me? Rabid cur. Kept me around because he knew I’d never in a million years be able to wield the Force. I escaped his scrutiny because I wasn’t enough of a threat to him, merely a pawn. And I was willing to take all that he threw at me, because what Snoke didn’t get is that I still gained more power doing what I did than I’d ever reach otherwise. You don’t want to know the lengths I was willing to go to for that power.”

“But Kylo Ren…”

“Ren took Snoke’s lessons to heart. And had he been able to look into my head, he’d have crushed me in an instant.” He snorts. “That’s why I kept him out.”

“How?” Unconsciously, Poe has leaned forward, eyes fixated on Hux, heart thrumming in his throat. “If you’re not Force sensitive, how did you keep him out of your mind?”

Hux’s eyes wander down his face, to his throat. Poe waits, pulse racing, palms slippery with sweat, forcing himself to breathe normally. The old fear, the one that never really let go of him after Ren’s torture, threatens to drown him again.

Steps in the hallway makes both of them flinch and turn around. Doctor Ode enters the cell.

“And how are we feeling?” she asks as she sits down on the bed and takes Hux’s wrist between her fingers.

“We,” Hux repeats, the old sneer back in his voice. “We have recently been beat up, so things could be better.”

“Mmh, indeed.” She raises the wristband she has brought along. “Give it a couple of days. You’ll heal soon.”

Instinctively, Poe’s hands wander to his gun, ready to step in if Hux gives the doctor grief, but Hux holds out his left wrist and turns away his face as Ode closes the wristband around his arm. Poe leans back.

“Did you know it was Commander Dameron who found you and who stopped the guys from doing you serious harm?” Ode asks as she sticks another syringe into Hux’s arm.

“Yes.”

“Have you thanked him yet?”

Hux’s eye flickers to Poe. His lips curl in a snarl. “No.”

Silence falls. Doctor Ode stands up and stares down at her patient with a stern glare.

Poe stands up, too. “It’s all right.” He grins. “A righteous guy like me doesn’t need gratitude for his heroic acts. The knowledge that the world has turned a little better thanks to my magnanimity is thanks enough.”

For a split second he could swear Hux is close to returning the grin.

Doctor Ode shakes her head and turns to the exit. “Stay in bed. Rest. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you. If anything happens…” She looks at the console by the door used to call for the guard and frowns.

“You call me.” Poe takes one of the responders from his intercom and casts it on the bed. “I’ll get the doctor.”

He follows Ode out of the cell, locks it and sets the alarm.

“All right,” she sighs. “Off to General Organa?”

“Yeah, let’s get it over with.”

They ascend the stairs without another word. Poe’s thoughts drift back to Kylo Ren. He hasn’t talked about that part of his torture with anyone. How could he explain to his comrades that the way Kylo Ren ripped his thoughts right from his head and left him exposed and violated was an anguish worse than hours of torture could ever achieve? How could he explain how helpless he had felt that moment, how truly weak and alone? Kylo Ren had not only violated his mind. He had filled Poe with a sense of pure hopelessness, with the conviction that no matter how hard he fought back, there was a force in this universe that he would never be able to battle. No amount of physical strength, no endurance, no cleverness could combat the sheer cruelty of the Force. In that moment he had known a fear that went deeper than the fear of pain or dying or losing the war.

How could anyone ever understand? So he had pushed it down, forced himself to forget it and move on.

General Organa, not even remotely amused by their report, calls a general meeting at once. She holds an hour long lecture about violence without reason and about their duty to behave honourable no matter how frustrated they are. Then she demands the names of every single person present in the room. After the harangue, the larger part of the spectators feels guilty enough to raise their hands and shuffle forward. She demotes Fendec and compatriots, places all of them on dishes and laundry duty, and assigns them to a training routine each morning for two months led by Poe but designed by herself. Even Poe blanches when she lists the routine.

“Seriously,” Finn mutters to Rey as Leia finally releases them and they file from the room. “If it had been me I’d have tried to get a punch in there myself before I stopped them.”

Rey giggles.

“Are you serious?” Poe flares up. “So now you kick someone already down?”

Finn shrugs. “It’s Hux. What do you expect?”

“Were you there? No. Ten, fifteen assholes ganged up on one person, one person who couldn’t defend himself because he was drugged and dragged from his cell. And you want to get another punch in, because you think that makes you happy?”

“Hey!” Rey steps up into his zone, glaring up at him. “Finn was a stormtrooper, or have you forgotten that? He’s had decades of his life stolen from those assholes. How can someone like you even imagine what that’s like?”

“I was captured by the First Order, too, tortured even! I think I know what I’m talking about.”

“So was I. It’s still not the same.”

“Hey.” Finn lays a hand on Rey’s shoulder and pulls her back. “You’re both right, okay? I went through some serious shit because of people like Hux and I couldn’t care less what happens to him. But Poe is right. We should be better than those guys. Can you two make up, please?”

Rey is still glaring at him, lips thinned into a line. Who does she think she is, anyway? Comes in here, steals his man and now she acts like she is speaking for him. Who gave her the right to-

With a huff, Rey extends her hand and offers him a rueful smile. “Peace?”

Poe blinks. He ruffles a hand through his curls and stares down at her hand. It’s not her fault that Finn didn’t choose him. If she weren’t the girlfriend of the guy he is secretly pining for, her words would have left him unfazed.

He takes her hand in a tight grip. “Peace.”

“Great.” Finn claps his hands. “Let’s get something to drink then. Come on, Poe, even you need to relax from time to time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for a good whump trope, you know?


	3. 3

Poe’s evening jog with BB-8 comes to an abrupt halt when he runs into Finn and Rey on the grassy fields outside the base, meditating. They are sitting next to each other, hands folded in their laps, legs crossed, eyes closed. Levitating about five inches above the ground. Fucking levitating. Worse, they decided to squeeze in an early evening meditation session, but apparently that kind of exercise is reserved to Force sensitives, not mortals like him. Poe tries to jog past, to not let it get to him, but it fucking hurts.

He watches them for a good ten minutes hovering in the air, seemingly at peace with the world around them, oblivious to the torment in his heart, when General Organa calls him into her quarters.

“We have received notice from Hux’s attorney,” she informs him the moment the doors slide shut behind him. “They have appointed a judge and want to do the first hearing next week.”

“All right,” Poe says, unsure why she is telling him that.

General Organa crosses her arms to send him glares. “This is not all right. That damned attorney actually did his job and came by last week to take pictures of Hux’s injuries. The judge they found for the case, Judge Aldernon, is super conservative. He is going to be sympathetic to Hux, especially if he sees those injuries that he sustained in our custody.”

“Sympathetic,” Poe repeats. “But he’s guilty. We know he’s guilty on all accounts. Nobody can deny that it was Hux who fired the Starkiller, what is he going to do about that?”

“That’s not the issue here. Fact is, Hux was attacked and subjected to extreme violence while under our supervision. If the attorney manages to convince the judge of our inadequacy he could decide to allow Hux out on bail. Or even worse, declare the whole thing a mistrial. He could let Hux out completely. In the time we need to file a new case against him, one of the many corporations who are still sympathetic to him could snatch him up and help him escape. We might never see him again.”

Horror dawns on Poe as he stares at Leia. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. There is little we can do, but I want you to pay a visit to Hux and try to find out which route they are going to take. If it’s one of the corporations who will post bail, try and get a name. Something. Anything.”

Poe chews on his inner cheek. “I can try, but what makes you think he’ll talk to me?”

“You’re the one who helped him last time. I am banking on his gratitude.”

Poe barks out a laugh. “You might be banking on the wrong thing.” He drops onto one of the chairs. When Leia pushes a Cassidian Ale into his hand, he accepts it without looking up. “What’s even the point of me saving him from those guys if he can use the attack against us? How can we win against a system that is so rigged?”

“The point,” General Organa says, “is that only by doing better than our enemy can we affect real change in the Galaxy. You did well stopping those guys. In fact, this might be our best line of defence. Since you as their superior officer immediately put an end to their shenanigans, we might be able to prove that the attack on Hux was not premeditated but a simple slight on our side. If we chalk it up to carelessness the judge might decide to let us off with a warning.”

Poe downs the ale. “I’m sorry things got so complicated.”

Leia sighs. “It’s politics, Poe. You’ve been showing excellent behaviour recently. I am proud of your commitment to leadership. Don’t let the frustration get to you, I need you on my front line.”

Despite his freezing anger, Leia’s words warm him with a proud glow as he returns to his quarters for supplies. The warmth stays with him when he leaves BB-8 behind and takes the stairs down into the confinement area, past the guard post on the second floor watching GalaxyTube on his data pad. He stops in front of the cell. Hux is sitting on his bed, casting the responder Poe gave him into the air and catching it again.

The dark red of his bruises has turned greenish-yellow. His left eye, though still swollen and discoloured, is open. Right hand still in the cast, he barely seems to mind his lingering injuries. Poe swallows down a sudden rise of bile. His guys did that.

Hux captures the responder and lowers his hand. His eyes meet Poe’s.

Poe opens the cell and steps inside, then lifts the game board he has brought along. “Fancy some entertainment?”

“You want to play _Monster Party_.” Not a muscle in Hux’s face moves.

“Yeah, but I’ll throw in an incentive for you.” He shows Hux the data pad in his other hand. “It’s an old one, not connected to anything outside this room, but there’s a novel on it; _Murder in Theed_. Win the game and you get the novel.”

Hux quirks a single eyebrow.

“Come on.” Poe sets the game board down on the table and lays the data pad next to it. “You’ve been complaining about boredom. I offer you two whole ways of entertainment. Take them.”

“And you’ve decided to spend your precious time with me why?” Hux is still eyeing him suspiciously, but he rises from his bed and shuffles over to the table.

His hair has grown, enough to fall over his eyes and cheeks. He cards it back, but it falls again, a feathery curtain that hides the worst of the bruises.

“You know.” Poe shrugs. “I’m a heroic guy whose righteousness dictates him to tend to those in bad fortune. No need to thank me.”

“Glad that’s settled.”

Hux watches him activate the holo-board and scroll through the map and army menu. Poe selects one of the simpler beginner’s maps and the standard army type. Two watchtowers, two four-tusked warbeasts, two curse-casters, one warlock, one queen, eight foot soldiers. He activates the playing field and their troops form on a grassy field spanning almost the entire table.

He hands one of the controllers to Hux, keeps the other one to himself. “Ready?”

“Roll the dice.”

Poe activates the die roll that decides who will move first. It lands on his side. He begins by distributing attack points to his soldiers and loading the mana levels of the spellcasters, before he moves two of his foot soldiers one field forward.

“So,” Hux says as the turn shifts to him. He is keeping the controller below the table, so Poe has no way to guess what he is doing. “Have you decided how to play the whole attack on me angle in court?”

Poe’s heart goes into free fall. “What?”

“Come on.” Hux finishes his turn with moving his entire row of foot soldiers one field forward. As long as their ranks are closed, Poe cannot aim past them. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? You’re actually worried, now that my attorney has a chance of getting me out of here before the trial ends. Let me see-” He purses his lips as though in thought. “Either the judge declares it a mistrial. That would be most unfortunate for you. While you haven’t made your case yet, which means that you can try again after the cool down period, it also means that you will have to let me go. Completely. No bail, no nothing. The Galaxy is big, so where will you look for me next? The other one is bail, which isn’t quite as nice but still enough for me to work with. Which do you think the judge will decide on?”

A coughing fit shakes Poe. Wheezing, tears streaming into his eyes, he tries to concentrate on the board. “You think it will come to either of those things?”

“I think they have moved into the neighbourhood of distinct likelihood.” Hux looks up, a cynical smile playing around his lips. “Your move.”

Fingertips tingling, Poe strikes against one of Hux’s foot soldiers. The field he occupied glows up and the foot soldier explodes in a spark of flames that runs across the board, engulfs Poe’s soldier and spreads along the neighbouring tiles, burning down three more of Poe’s soldiers and one of his warbeasts in red and golden sparks.

He flinches back as though smacked in the face. Dread seeps into his stomach as he watches his part of the field burn away. When his eyes flicker to Hux, he is looking at Poe, lips curled in the most self-satisfied smile.

“Shit.” Poe coughs to clear his throat. “You do know how to play.”

“Thought I was nothing but a pretty face?”

“So that’s why Snope kept you around?” Since the explosion has stolen him his remaining movement points, Poe leans back and waits for Hux’s next move.

Hux snorts. “Because I know how to play _Monster Party_?”

The left one of his curse casters steps into the gap Poe left and casts a glowing rune onto the tile before Poe’s next surviving foot soldier. Then his watchtower moves forward, mows down one of his own foot soldiers, and begins to gather energy. The colour on the board changes to indicate the end of his move.

“Because,” Poe says, “you’re smarter than you look.”

“Snoke kept me around exactly because he decided I was beneath him. He’d never have anyone who might threaten his position allowed to climb this high.”

“So who brought in the cash?” The tile glowing with a rune worries Poe. It’s so obviously a trap it doesn’t deserve the word trap. He runs through the available curses in his head. No matter what the rune turns out to be, however, the more pressing issue is the watchtower that will be ready to shoot within two rounds. He adds points to his own watchtower and starts shooting. Watchtowers have near inexhaustible HP, but if he keeps at it for the next two rounds he might stand a chance.

As the board changes colour again, the cursed rune glows up and spreads to four neighbouring tiles.

“You need to be more specific.” Hux moves both of his warbeasts forward.

“I saw your records, the ones we retrieved. You had quite the funds, all of them channelled through shell companies of course. Somebody must have charmed investors and I can’t imagine it being holey Snokes or masked boy.”

Hux snorts. “So this is an interrogation after all.”

“No, don’t see it as an interrogation. Only a friendly talk over a friendly game.”

“Fat chance. I guess you’ll have to find out yourself what happens at trial.”

Poe leans back. The runic field is spreading. Hux’s watchtower still boasts thirty percent of its HP. All that is left for him is a full offensive. He sends his curse-casters ahead to rain disease on Hux’s foot soldiers, then sets up a teleportation spell by his warlock. If he manages to change the direction of Hux’s watchtower before it releases its shot, it might take out Hux’s army instead.

“You’re making me regret saving your sorry ass in the first place.”

“Good. Shouldn’t have saved me.”

“Why? Because dying is better than going to prison? Think you can weasel your way out of assuming responsibility for your deeds by getting yourself killed?”

“I wouldn’t have died. I never do.”

“That’s awfully optimistic of you.”

“Not an optimist, but a survivor. You’ll see.”

Poe shakes his head. The fields with the runes flash up and more runes appear, one of them under a foot soldier. His HP drop by five. Poe activates the teleportation spell, but a wall flashes up around the watchtower. Hux’s own warlock must have cast a protective spell.

“Last time you said something. You said Kylo Ren couldn’t read your thoughts. How’d you keep him out?”

“Worried what your friends will do?” Hux activates the watchtower. The shot flashes up, takes down another two of Poe’s foot soldiers and severely damages his own watchtower. The runes have reached his warbeast. Both the beast and the soldier lose another five HP.

“My friends are never going to force themselves into my brain.” Poe stares down at the board. This can’t be real. He is out one warbeast, another one locked in a life-draining spell. There is no line of defence left for Hux to attack his curse-casters and after that the warlock and the queen… “But I’ve never heard of anyone who’s not Force sensitive to be able to resist something like that. Are you sure you don’t have secret abilities?”

Hux shakes his head. He counters Poe’s disease spell with his own curse-casters, then sends his warbeasts out. “I simply made him relive one of his worst memories.”

Poe looks up.

Hux’s eyes stay on the board. “Years ago, when he was younger and so eager, so desperate to prove himself, we had the chance of capturing someone who would have proven extremely valuable in our hands. Ren blundered and let her escape. I happened to be in the room when Snoke learned of his mistake. I could hardly sneak out, so I stayed for the following four hours, while Snoke doled out his punishment.”

His lips curl in disgust. “It took Ren three weeks to recover enough to leave his room afterwards. He tried to act like nothing had ever happened, but I had been there. I remember. When he attempted to read my mind the first time, I returned to that scene in vivid detail. He didn’t try very often after that.”

Poe rubs his jaw. “Shit. That’s some… didn’t expect that.”

Hux’s warbeast charges straight past his barely existing line of defending foot soldiers and attacks his warlock. It triggers the protective shield Poe cast around his warlock and unleashes two heavy attacks on the warbeast that leave it nearly fainting.

“That’s Force sensitives. You’d do well to keep that shit in mind.” Hux cards his left hand through his hair, revealing the yellow outline of a bruise on his temple for a moment, before his hair covers it again. “Snoke’s downfall in the end was Kylo Ren, just as Ren’s weakness is and always has been Snoke. They created their own exclusive little club and didn’t even notice how vulnerable it made them.”

“Stroke’s dead,” Poe says and tears Hux’s warbeast apart. “He can’t affect Kylo Ren anymore.”

Hux hums and has his warlock send an ice attack against Poe’s now unshielded warlock. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

“So what about you? There must be someone you care about in this Galaxy.”

Hux sneers. “Like who?”

“I don’t know. Your mum?”

“Dead.”

“Dad.”

“Dead.”

“Wife? Husband? Kids.”

“Do I look like the homemaking type?”

“Lover? Close friend. Acquaintance. Person you don’t totally hate.” Poe stares down at the game board. There is no move left for him to make. Hux has brutally beaten him. If he plays this to the end, it will leave him utterly humiliated. “For instance, if there was one person in the whole Galaxy you could talk to before being shipped off to the most secure prison we find, who would it be?”

“Are you giving up?”

Poe groans out a long sigh. “Yeah.”

He presses the surrender button and the board flashes red. Hux wins.

“Best out of three?” Poe asks.

“I see you’re using your superior position to move the goalposts of your promise as you desire.”

“Ugh, no, you’re right. Fine, here.” He hands over the data pad.

Triumph flashing in Hux’s eyes as he takes the data pad. “Best out of three?”

“Hell, yeah. Don’t think I’ll make it that easy for you again.”

He selects a new terrain and a new army. Hux beat him the first time, but now that Poe has caught a glimpse of his strategy he can respond. The next game won’t be that easy.

For the first couple of rounds neither of them speaks. Poe strikes quickly and forces Hux to sacrifice more than he would have done willingly. Then he settles on defence, waiting for Hux to retaliate. When the first wave of spells and curses passes, he uses the loamy terrain to tunnel through to Hux’s side. His first earth worm faces quick decapitation at the hand of Hux’s knight, but the next one triggers an earthquake that leaves Hux’s troops defenceless for a short window.

“All right,” Poe says as they enter a couple of slower rounds of regrouping and recharging spell points. “Back to my question. Imagine we could bring anyone in here. Who’d you want to come?”

Hux purses his lips. “FN 2187.”

“His name’s Finn, you know.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. I gave him that name.”

“Must have been really grateful.”

“Why Finn? You two weren’t- wait, is that it? A secret love affair between you and a stormtrooper?”

“Don’t make me gag. I want to know how he got out.”

“Why? Looking for pointers?”

Hux’s lips thin into a line. “We had many stormtroopers who at some point took issue with their training or their orders. We had only one who managed to run away and join the Resistance. I want to know how.”

“So what, it bothers you? Thousands of loyal troops and the one who decided to rebel is the one you can’t forget?”

“Something like that. I want to know what we missed.”

Poe shrugs. “I mean, he got a chance and he took it. Without me he would never have managed to-”

“Nonsense. If any of the stormtroopers truly wanted to steal one of the TIE fighters they could have done so. Point is, they didn’t. Something kept them from running away, something that didn’t work with FN 2187. I want to know what it is.”

Poe leans back. He is going to lose again. Not as gloriously as he did last time, but already the tides are turning against him. Hux’s earthworms are threatening his warlock and he doesn’t have enough mana points left to dig them out. He wasted too much spell power in the beginning.

“You want to know?” he asks. “The thing that caused Finn to take that step no one else ever dared take?”

“Don’t say you know it.”

“Course I do. It’s because he’s the best.”

Hux snorts.

“No, really, that’s it. That’s all there is to it. For everyone else, this idea of leaving behind their cosy position to be hunted across the Galaxy was deterrent enough to acquiesce and give up. But not Finn. Not even the idea of having to hide and fight back for the rest of his life managed to deter him. He went ahead and got out because he realized it was the only ethical choice. He left because that’s the kind of man he is. And that’s the reason we won.”

He has talked himself into a frenzy. Suddenly the game doesn’t matter anymore. He knows what he wants to do.

“I surrender.” Before Hux can say anything, Poe ends the game and turns it off. “I have to go. Have fun with that.”

He nods at the data pad, then packs up the game board and practically bolts from the room. He leaps up the stairs, leaves the game in the common room, and runs outside. Who cares that Finn didn’t choose him? Who cares that not everything worked out the exact way Poe envisioned it? The most important thing is-

He skids to a halt. Finn is standing at the open engine case of an X-Wing, holding a box of tools for Rey, who has climbed up into the narrow space and is twisting at one of the valve openings. She reaches down with her wrench and Finn takes it and hands her a small silver tube instead. BB-8 is sitting in its seat in the X-Wing, bleeping engine status updates down at them.

When Finn sees Poe, he grins and waves. “Where’d you come from? I’ve been looking for you.”

“Did a job for General Organa.” Poe comes closer. “What do you need?”

“What about the job? Are you done?”

“Yeah.” Poe grimaces. “She wanted me to interrogate Hux, but that guy is impossible to talk to.”

“You tell me,” Finn says. “Why’d you think we all hated him?”

A chuckle bounces in Poe’s throat. “You did?”

“Yeah. Every one of us, the whole squad called him stinky fart Hux, because he always looked like he’d just smelled a particularly stinky fart. He talked like it, too.”

“But he was your superior.”

“Yeah, but not because we could help it. At least Phasma took the time to drink with us from time to time. Hux came in, barked orders, then ran off again. I’m pretty sure even Snoke hated him.”

“Then why even keep him around?” Rey asks and wipes her hands off on a dirty rag.

Finn shrugs. “Beats me. If I’d been supreme commander I’d have stationed him off on an ice planet and forgotten all about him.”

“Pretty sure that’s what’s gonna happen now, anyway.” Poe grins and climbs up into the cabin of the X-Wing. “Where to?”

“Little moon outside of Hoth,” Finn answers. “A couple of stormtroopers gave up their location and General Organa wants me to go and bring them in. You game?”

“If you want me.”

“Of course I do.” Finn grins at him. “As soon as BB-8 gives the OK, we can go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought it would be that easy, didn't you?


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have no idea whatsoever how any legal system or trial works. I am proud that I know the word "defence attorney" and "prosecutor." If you have more knowledge about legal stuff than can be acquired by watching a couple seasons of How To Get Away With Murder, you're in for a rough ride.   
> But hey, it's fanfic. Suspension of disbelief and all that.

The trial begins with Judge Aldernon, a tall and thin man with a sparse moustache, grilling Poe about the beating until Poe breaks out in cold sweat and barely remembers that he is innocent and not the one on trial. After the first session, he waits with the rest of the spectators in the court room, while the judge spends almost an hour with General Organa, the defence attorney and the prosecutor in his office. By the time they emerge Poe is fidgeting at the edge of his seat. He already expects the worst when he catches a glimpse of the attorney’s face. Jaw so tense his lips stretch taut, frown etched into his brows, he bumps against one of the folding seats in his stride.

A glimmer of hope sparks up. Poe scoots back in his chair and straightens his back. He exchanges a glance with Leia; she flashes him a grin and gives him a covert thumbs up. Poe keeps his face straight while he heaves a deep breath of relief.

“The treatment of the defendant while in custody of General Organa certainly was not following protocol,” the judge declares, “but I have ascertained that this was due to the actions of a few, erm, overly zealous soldiers who acted rashly and against General Organa’s orders. Now, ordinarily I would order the defendant to be relocated to a secure facility, but due to the extreme circumstances we have all found ourselves in for the past few months, we would be hard pressed to find a facility equipped to deal with the task. I have therefore decided to leave the arrangement as it is for now. General Organa has given me her word that she will take utmost caution so that no further incident will occur.”

Grinning, Poe relaxes against the back rest. First crisis averted.

The door opens and Hux enters, shackles around legs, wrists and neck. Two men in armour vests holding blasters lead him inside. Not a muscle in his face moves as he takes his seat on the bank.

Poe barely listens to the first round of charges and only tunes in when the prosecutor calls Hux to the stand. The first couple of trials against lower-ranking First Order commanders all went the exact same way. They claimed they did not know what was really going on in the forced labour camps and on Starkiller Base. The prosecutor produced evidence that their knowledge went much deeper than they claimed. They broke down crying about how they had to follow orders or they would be killed. Even for the stricter judges it was almost impossible to evaluate how much of it was the truth and how much was for show.

“Let’s start with Starkiller Base,” the prosecutor begins. “According to several witnesses you were the one with all decisive power on the base.”

“On the base itself, yes,” Hux replies without missing a beat.

Silence falls. The prosecutor looks as shocked as the attorney, who opens his mouth to smooth over, because Hux was not supposed to admit that-

“That means you oversaw the building of the base and its operation.”

“Correct.”

“You were the one who planned the weapon?”

“Of course not. I am not an engineer. I merely made sure the weapon was built as intended.”

The defence attorney sinks his face into his hands.

“You hired the engineers.” The prosecutor speaks fast, obviously desperate to capitalize on his luck as long as it lasts.

“Yes.”

“Were you the one who decided on the function of the weapon?”

“Alongside with Supreme Leader Snoke, yes.”

“But he left the execution to you.”

“What part of the execution exactly?”

“You gave the order to build the weapon.”

“It wasn’t one order. It was a couple thousand orders over a span of several years.”

“And you gave all the orders that led to the building of the weapon.”

“Of course not. When the project started I was a captain. Several other higher-ranking officers were involved in the planning. I only took over the last two years and even then, only the most important requests landed on my desk.”

“Can you give us an example?” the prosecutor asks, eyes sparkling as though he hit a gold vein.

“Isn’t that your job?” Hux leans back on the witness chair. The chains connecting his wrists to his feet leave him little movement space. They rattle as he attempts to cross his arms, realizes he can’t, and links his fingers on his thigh instead.

“Who gave the order to fire the Starkiller on Hosnian Prime?”

“I did.”

The attorney coughs. “The initial order came from your supreme leader, however. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“So you had no choice in the matter.”

“Of course I did. I could have refused to execute his order.”

“Would that have meant that the Starkiller did not get fired?”

“It would have meant my death most likely. The Starkiller was destined to destroy Hosnian Prime the moment the supreme leader wished it so.”

“So.” The attorney straightens his back, a glimmer of hope back in his eyes. “You could not have prevented it no matter what you tried.”

“I never said that. I could have tried several things.”

“Such as?” the prosecutor asks.

“Such as sabotaging the mechanism. I am no engineer, but I still knew enough of the plans to understand how the weapon worked.”

The attorney squeezes his eyes shut. “You worked for a man who could read your thoughts. Do you honestly think you could have sabotaged the weapon without him finding you out?”

“Objection!” the prosecutor cries. “Speculation!”

The judge raises his hand. “Both sides return to the facts, please. Mr Hux, you ordered the weapon to be fired.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” the prosecutor asks. “You understood that it would cost the lives of billions of people on Hosnian Prime, didn’t you?”

“I did.” Hux stares the prosecutor straight in his face. “I was willing to make that sacrifice.”

Murmurs rise in the hall. Poe leans back, mouth dry. The prosecutor continues, listing charge after charge, barely making it past the Starkiller incident when the judge calls an end to the session. Night has fallen. The hall has emptied considerably; few people had the stamina to sit through hours of violence committed against innocent civilians.

When the guards lead Hux from the hall, Poe stands up and leaves.

The light inside the cell has dimmed to an orange glow when Poe visits Hux. During the night it allows Hux the option to turn it down, though never to extinguish it completely.

“I am finished,” Hux tells him and hands him the data pad back.

“Did you like it?” Poe pockets the data pad, before he hangs his woollen cloak over a chair. Winter has arrived outside with freezing cold and flurries of snow.

“Not particularly. I’d prefer real world news to sentimental fiction. I found myself rooting for the murderer halfway through.”

“Of course you did.” Poe sits down. “I’ll talk to General Organa about your reading options.”

“Why?” Hux asks sharply. “How do you benefit from improving my treatment?”

His right hand is still in a cast, but aside from that the bruises have healed. The lack of sunshine leaves him even paler than he was before. Even though there is no limit on the amount of food he can order via the dispenser, his face looks gaunt. Hard shadows fall over his cheeks and his jaw. Food options are restricted and no matter how nourishing, the same pulp of tasteless porridge each day quickly turns unbearable.

“Magnanimity,” Poe responds. “I am just that good of a person.”

“You disgust me.”

Poe shrugs. “I watched your trial.”

“I know. Apparently I have you to thank for still being in here.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I could be sitting on a tropical island on some barely populated planet tanning in a sun, far away from the reach of the Resistance, but no. I’m still here.”

“Yeah, I’m a bit proud of myself.” Poe grins at him.

Hux, sitting cross legged on his bed, looks daggers at him. His anger leaves Poe positively giddy. He grins harder, winks. Hux’s eyes widen before he turns away.

Ever since his perpetual sneer has vanished, he looks almost handsome. From time to time, when he purses his lips while he straightens his shirt or brushes through his hair, Poe catches himself wondering what he would look like smiling. If Hux is even physically capable of smiling. Proof of that has yet to appear.

“You know,” Poe says, “most trials I’ve been to so far had First Order guys desperately trying to prove they were innocent of everything they were accused of. I think you made your attorney cry.”

Hux snorts. “I did. Not in the courtroom, but outside when we held counsel. Then he resigned, so next time I’ll get a new one.”

“Shit, seriously?”

“He couldn’t even get me out on bail. I won’t cry after him.”

“Pity, isn’t it,” Poe drawls, “that they don’t allow you to hire a private attorney with your own money.”

“Unfair, too. If I could hire my own attorney I might stand a chance of getting out of this with my hide still intact.”

“I think this is exactly why they insist on a federate attorney. You could’ve made things easier for him, though, and at least not said yes to every single thing. Aren’t you worried what’s going to happen to you now?”

“Everyone knows who I am and what I’ve done. What does it matter if they give me three life sentences or four? I am not going to hide what I did.”

“Not even a little bit? I mean, did you really look at that weapon and think it was a good idea to murder billions of innocent people, I can’t imagine-”

“I am not ashamed of who I am.” Hux stands up and pulls the woollen cloak away from the chair. He holds it out to Poe. “We have cleared all of this up in the courtroom. If you only want to reiterate that tedious interrogation, leave.”

Poe looks up at Hux without moving. “Why? Why not go a way that wasted less human lives? Do you truly think your vision was so important that you could justify so much suffering?”

“At least I had a vision,” Hux hisses. “I still believe that this Galaxy could be better and if we had won, you couldn’t deny that. I had conviction! Can you say the same?”

“Hell yeah. Of course I can. I mean, we won because we believed in our cause. That’s a hell of a lot conviction we had there.”

Hux presses his lips together. He drops the cloak and staggers back to the bed. “Human lives are replaceable.”

“Even your own?”

“Even my own.” He barks out a dry laugh. “I never expected to live to see the end of the First Order. I saw how quickly my superior officers rotated in and out of office. I saw their corpses when their time was up. Might have been responsible for two or three myself. I knew the same thing would happen to me, but at least then I’d gone out fighting.”

“You told me he violated your mind,” Poe says. His palms prickle. He rubs them, but the tingles don’t calm down. “You could have used that as an excuse.”

“I could have, but it would have been a lie. It was my order that fired the Starkiller. That at least, I won’t let anyone take away from me. They can all snivel and cry and lie their ways out of responsibility, but I did what I did. I will stand by it.”

Pain clenches around Poe’s heart. The magnitude of the destruction by the Starkiller still escapes all of their understanding. At least some part of him hoped that getting Hux to explain it to him would help him to make some sense of the assault, but if anything it adds to his confusion.

“For what it’s worth,” Hux says quietly. “I had intended to fire the first shot at D’Qar to get rid of the Resistance base and use that as a warning for the rest of the Galaxy. Hosnian Prime was the unhinged idea of Snoke himself that neither Kylo Ren nor I ever considered in the realm of rationality. He knew that. I still believe that the reason Snoke hardened his decision on Hosnian Prime halfway through our planning was solely for the fact that he knew how dumb I thought the idea was. He did it to anger me.”

He wipes across his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “He wanted me to refuse him, so he could take me out. It was such a damned waste. The government on Hosnian Prime didn’t just keep both eyes closed to our actions. There were senators who actively supported us. We had factories on that planet, businesses that had invested billions into our cause. The most important of those were warned, of course, before we fired the weapon. They had time to move off the planet and buy up stock. If you want to know who was an avid supporter of the First Order, take a look at which companies made an insane amount of money in the aftermath of Starkiller.”

Hux looks up. He meets Poe’s eyes, curls his lips into a cynical smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Intent matters naught, though, does it? When Snoke ordered me to ready the weapon to take out Hosnian Prime I obeyed. When the weapon was ready I controlled its firing. I won’t embellish the truth, simply because no one else is willing to face responsibility. I gave the order and seven billion, eight hundred and fifty-three million people died.”

Even though the room is heated to an eternal twenty-two degrees, cold seeps into Poe’s blood and leaves him shivering. “Population on Hosnian Prime was only six point nine billion.”

Hux closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall, sitting in his favourite posture. “You don’t know everything I have done.”

Poe stands up. He fishes his cloak from the floor and pulls it around his shoulders with trembling fingers. He came here to get answers after the trial, but instead he leaves with more questions. Hux does not look up when he bolts from the room.


	5. 5

When Poe knocks on the wall next to the duro-glass Hux peers around the edge of the shower wall. He steps out, dressed in nothing but briefs, raises his eyebrows at Poe, and walks over to the chair with his clothes.

He has definitely lost weight. His hip bones jut through his skin and his stomach hollows as he leans down. The bruises are gone, but a jagged scar he must have gotten much earlier paints down his shoulder blade. When he pulls the shirt over his head and turns around, Poe looks away.

“I can’t open that door, you know,” Hux remarks and combs his fingers through his hair. “You’ll have to do it yourself.”

Poe deactivates the alarm. The door slides open and he steps through and holds out the data pad.

“It receives news,” he says as Hux takes it with a purse of his lips. “You can’t message anyone or log in or anything, but you have access to GalaxyTube as well.”

“Not bad,” Hux comments smoothly. He activates the data pad and taps a long, slender finger against the screen.

“There are restrictions, of course. It’s got a child lock, so you can’t access adult content.”

“You installed a lock so I couldn’t search for porn on a device that will divulge all my search results to you whenever you want?”

If Poe didn’t know any better he could swear Hux’s eyes are twinkling with mischief. How come the more time he spends in here locked away from the rest of the First Order the more relaxed and well-adjusted he looks?

“Not just porn, but animal cruelty and gore as well. Also, LGBT content, because the GalaxyTube algorithm sucks. We’ve already written a letter campaign about that because that shit’s not okay, but we haven’t seen any results so far.”

“It’s enough.” Hux looks back at the data pad. “Hey, the Gungan Hunters lost the Tatooine championship. That’s a downer.”

It takes almost a minute for Poe to understand what Hux is talking about. “Wait, you watch pod races?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“You watch- you have a favourite team?”

“You don’t?”

Poe shakes his head, aghast. “You like pod races.”

“I am allowed to have hobbies, you know. I am not a one-dimensional cut-out of a military leader without any personality.”

“Wait, you’re not?”

When Hux frowns at him, Poe grins and winks. He pulls out the cup he brought along, walks over to the dispenser and overrides the lock with his credentials.

“Coffee?”

“It doesn’t make coffee. Only water.”

“It does if you’re me.” Poe picks up his steaming cup, takes the one standing upturned next to the dispenser and fills it with coffee as well.

“Are you- are you kidding me? I could have had coffee all this time? Why the blazes do they restrict the beverage section?”

Poe shrugs. “Repentance? Can’t make things too nice for you in here.”

“Coffee is not going to make me want to spend the rest of my life here.” Hux receives the cup from Poe’s hands and closes his eyes while he inhales deeply, nostrils flaring. “Oh, that’s good.”

“It’s just coffee,” Poe says.

“It’s not if you haven’t had anything for weeks. No coffee, no tea, no juice, no soda, only porridge and water. No food, no entertainment, no outside sun, no company.”

“Tough, isn’t it, when you’re not living on top anymore.”

Hux opens his eyes. He gingerly sets the cup down on the table, then crosses his arms. “You think yourself smart. I am human, you know. I know, it’s hard to imagine, but I need company and a little bit of control over my own life to feel at ease.”

“You look plenty at ease to me. Looks like the vacation from the First Order did you some good.”

“I barely sleep and I have lost at least eleven pounds since I’ve arrived here. I know this might be unfeasible for you, but your little organization is not all pleasant for everyone. I feel like shit, there’s isn’t even anyone to complain to, and whenever I get to express my discontent I get reminded that everything I have to endure, I deserve. You saved me from a beating only to let me rot in here like a sick rat. I’d rather be tortured by actual torture devices than by the tedious cold of this place!”

Poe takes a step back. Hux’s cheeks have darkened, his eyes narrowed to slits blazing at Poe. His anger streams into the room, bursting free after weeks of tiptoeing around. There is something liberating in it, even from a man like Hux. Especially from a man like Hux, who likes to control every situation. There is nothing controlled about his outbreak; seconds after he has yelled his last words, he flinches back as though shocked by the force of his own rage and looks away. Poe watches, silently, while Hux folds onto a chair and holds on to the cup.

“So,” he says after Hux has sipped his coffee quietly for a while. “The Gungan Hunters lost, huh? How’d that happen?”

Hux grimaces. “They exchanged their old mid racer Patel for someone new, Derry, who previously ran for the Alderaan Revengers.”

“That’s a shit team.” Poe sits down.

“Indeed. They think he has potential when all he does is cut the corners and nearly set his pod on fire each time. But he is cheap and Patel is not.” Hux shakes his head and raises his coffee. “We’re past the time when integrity in sports was a thing.”

“So young and so jaded already.” Poe grins. “Do you even know how to pod race?”

“I don’t need to race myself to understand the mechanics.”

“Oh, but how could you miss out, it’s so much fun.”

Hux looks at him sharply. “You know how to race.”

“What do you think I did through all of my childhood,” Poe laughs. “There must still be videos up there on my channel, let me see.” He snatches up the data pad and starts typing. “Here, I was fourteen back then.”

Hux leans over the video, frowning, impatiently swiping at his hair falling over his eyes. “Who made this?”

“My mum.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What? I’m amazing. Look at me, I could be a pro.”

“Why do you have this channel?”

“Why not? Don’t tell me you don’t have a channel.”

“What in the blazes would I do with a channel?”

Poe shrugs, still grinning. “Upload speeches about the First Order? Bitch about Kylo Ren?”

“Should’ve done it, would’ve served him right. He’d never have found them anyway, fucking dweeb,” Hux mutters. “What’s this one? Were you- is that a moustache?”

Heat shoots into Poe’s cheeks. “Hey, don’t just click on that.”

“It’s right there and holy shit, you look like a perv. What in all stars is up with that moustache?”

“Shut up, I was seventeen. I was trying to be cool.” Poe snatches away the data pad and turns it off. “No more TV for you.”

“Hey, give that back. It’s mine now.”

“Not if you use it for mischief.”

He holds the data pad high above his head and leans back when Hux gropes for it, laughing. Hux shakes his hair from his eyes and suddenly a whole different kind of heat sinks into Poe’s stomach.

 _Oh no. He’s pretty_.

This time the smile reaches his eyes, twinkling in a soft light while his whole face blossoms up and changes completely. Gone are the upturned nose and the thin lips. This new man has dimples and glowing cheeks and a gentleness smoothing over the edges. This man is good-looking as hell.

Poe’s arm has sunk back on the table. When Hux snatches the data pad from his defenceless hands, all he can do is stare and let go. With a triumphant smile, Hux tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and moves the data pad out of Poe’s reach.

“A credit for your thoughts,” he then offers softly.

Poe blinks. “I just thought you look really pretty when you smile,” he answers because his mama raised an honest man.

The smile drops like lead. Hux lowers his head and hides his eyes beyond his fringe.

Poe’s entire face warms. “I didn’t mean that in a predatory sense. I’m just saying it because it’s true. It’s not like I want to do…”

Hux looks up and quirks an eyebrow at him.

“…stuff.”

_Oh no. I want to do stuff._

Hux cocks his head and the white stripe of his neck flashes up.

Poe squeezes his eyes shut. _I want to do stuff to him, this is bad, I’m bad, I’m the worst…_

When he opens his eyes again Hux is still watching him. He plants both hands firmly on the table and stays silent. He can still salvage this.

“For the record,” Hux says quietly, “the only thing stopping you is yourself.”

Nope, he can’t.

Poe shakes his head, a bit more forcefully than is appropriate. “I can’t. You’re our prisoner and I’m charged with your safekeeping. Anything I did would be…”

Hux’s tongue darts out, ghosts over his bottom lip and vanishes again, but not without destroying the last straw of Poe’s rational brain.

“…assault.”

“So?” Hux asks sardonically. “Why should I care? I got beat up by your guys. I told you I’d rather bear physical torture than this cell.”

“Still.” He stands up. “Enjoy your new entertainment. Next round of trial is in two days.”

“So I can order coffee now?”

“Nope. You still need my code for that. That was a one-time treat.”

“Tease.”

“Savour it.”

He runs up the stairs even faster than last time and straight into Rey.

“Hey,” she whispers and ducks. “Don’t tell Finn you saw me.”

“Why not? What’s going on?”

“We’re playing hide and seek. He has to find me with the Force.”

“Don’t you ever want to train without using the Force?”

She straightens up and flashes him a confused look. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Just so, you know, non-Force sensitives could play too.”

“Oh.” She presses her lips together in thought for a moment. “I mean, yeah, we could. Do you need us? I kind of figured you had your pilot friends to train with. You know, Finn and I only have each other. I have yet to find another person who is that good with the Force.”

“Go get Kylo Ren,” Poe grumbles.

She frowns. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He is being snappy. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“You know, without us you wouldn’t have won this war. As long as the enemy insists on using the Force we will have to do so, too. It’s not my fault you flinch every time you see someone doing something awesome.”

“How is mind-raping someone something awesome?” It escapes him before he can hold himself back.

“Mind-raping?” Her eyes go wide. “I would never do that!”

“I know. Sorry.”

“And that one time I made the bartender believe I was twenty-one when he wanted to see my ID was completely harmless.”

Poe stumbles back. “So you have done it.”

“It was a joke.”

“How is that a joke to you?”

“It’s just a bit of fun. No one got hurt.”

His teeth grind against each other. “You think you can use the Force however you want to solve all your problems? Do you even understand that the rest of us mortals have to bear the consequences?”

“Poe.” She lays a hand on his arm. “I didn’t mind-rape any bartenders. Legal drinking age is eighteen, remember? I was trying to make a joke and it backfired. I am not using those tricks, all right?”

He clenches and unclenches his fists.

“I get that it can be scary.” Her brows knit in a gentle frown. She is not trying to fight with him. “But the Force helped us capture the First Order leadership and it’s going to help us find Kylo Ren. If you want someone to fly manoeuvres with you, I’d be happy to.”

“It’s not you.” He looks away.

“You mean, it’s Finn? If you want to spend time with Finn, tell him. You’ve been so busy with the trials and all that stuff lately that he didn’t know how to talk to you. I’m sure he’d love to have a guys’ night for a change.”

“Thanks.” He moves his arm away from her hand. “I’ll think about it.”

He feels her eyes on him as he walks away. Nothing she says will make him Force sensitive. Nothing will bring him closer to her and Finn. Already they are talking about opening a school for Force sensitive children to teach them how to use their powers for good. They are still squabbling over whether to revive the Jedi Order or do their own thing, but none of their conversations have a space for Poe in them. In fact, as soon as the Resistance disbands he will be out of a job altogether.

General Organa has already asked him to join the new Federation fleet of course, but Poe did not choose the Resistance because he loved the military. He chose it because he knew he needed to fight for freedom in the Galaxy. Now that they have banished the main threat, he faces a future without goal, leaving him drifting, torn between joining the army for no other reason than that the opportunity presented itself, and returning home to start something completely new.

He mulls over those thoughts for the rest of the day without coming any closer to a solution, until Finn finds him moping in his quarters and drags him to the bar for karaoke night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how is everybody doing during the quarantine? Are you practicing social distance like Hux does, because he's a good boy?   
> (I got a haircut today for the first time in, like, three months. My barber complained about his slow business and about the slow reaction of his government. He's always fun to talk to)


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cupcakes, there is a mean scare going around tumblr and twitter right now, about Disney trying to steal our content?? Or writing cease and desist letters??   
> And I want to let you know, it's been debunked already. Here's an article about what went on (https://www.theverge.com/2020/4/28/21238909/disney-star-wars-maythe4th-hashtag-copyright-contract-twitter). Rest assured they won't come on AO3 and try to claim fanfic as their own, neither will they probably try and get all fanfic deleted. Even if they do, I trust AO3 to handle this shit.   
> So rest assured that I have no intention to delete anything off my AO3, nor to stop uploading new chapters.

“Here.” General Organa shoves the shackles in Poe’s hands. “You’re trustworthy. Go chain him up and take him to the ship. You’re going to the trial, anyway, aren’t you?”

Poe nods and raises the shackles. They clink as he shakes them a bit. “I’m not sure I’m the right one to accompany Hux, though.”

“Why not? It’s a simple enough task. He hasn’t attacked anyone so far, no need to be concerned.”

 _That’s not what I am concerned about_.

The idea of putting Hux in these chains, just the two of them in that cell, standing so close together he can feel Hux’s breath on him, does not sound like something a smart man would do. The fact that Hux basically gave him green light last time does not make it any easier.

“Come on now.” Leia smacks his back. “You’re a big boy. You can handle one puny evil general. Call me when you’re on the ship.”

She leaves him no choice and so Poe traipses the stairs down into Hux’s little cave. When he reaches the cell, Hux is already standing, jacket thrown over his shirt. Poe raises the cuffs.

Hux sighs. “What an awful lot of effort when I am surrounded by guards every step of the way. What do they expect me to do? Snatch a blaster from some guy’s holster and start firing?”

“See, now I’m worried you’re going to do that.” Poe steps into the cell, but leaves it open. “Are you going to cooperate?”

“What if I don’t?”

“I’m really hoping you do.”

“Are you going to use force?” Asks it and bats his eyelids at the same time, almost smiling.

An image flashes up before Poe’s inner eye, of driving Hux into the wall and wrestling his arms up while he tries to writhe from the grip around his wrists hard enough to leave marks. Hand over his mouth and watching his eyes blaze in anger while he fastens the collar around his neck, palm wetting with his spit. Shoving a hand into his hair and pulling his head back to claim his mouth in an angry kiss-

Poe shakes his head. “No force. I’ll simply wait. The longer we wait the later we’ll be to the trial. You know, the judge is gonna pin that on your refusal to cooperate. How many more life sentences you want?”

Hux shakes his head, eyes glittering with amusement, but he holds out his wrists. Poe fastens the cuffs around them, then kneels down to shackles his legs. Last he reaches for the collar. Hux raises his chin. Poe lifts his hair. His thumb brushes along the skin on Hux’s neck, warm and soft. He nearly flinches back, sweat breaking out on his palm. He closes the collar, then throws the hooded cloak he brought along over Hux’s shoulders. Outside the wind and the snow have chilled down the air to minus ten degrees.

“Let’s go.”

Hux says nothing as they board the ship. He keeps silent all the way to the makeshift courtroom on Naboo.

Poe sits next to Leia Organa, thoughts drifting as he watches space zoom by. After the last trial session he spent copious amounts of time turning Hux’s conduct over in his head. Back then the brazen honesty with which Hux admitted to any and all crimes of the First Order left him seething with rage. After the things he confessed later, during their private conversation, Poe has begun to change his mind. Every single officer of the First Order eagerly denied all responsibility in the atrocities they committed. Everyone except Hux.

Maybe it’s true. Maybe he feels no remorse and is proud of his involvement with Snoke. But the fact that he decided to own up to everything, that he willingly commits himself to prison after his defeat, forces Poe to pay him begrudging respect. Part of him cannot help but wonder what Hux will do today.

Nothing prepared him for the charges levelled against Hux this time. After they have exhausted the topic of the Starkiller last session, the prosecutor now turns to everything else the First Order did. The abduction of children and the brainwashing of stormtroopers. The conquering of outer rim planets and erection of labour camps. The displacement of millions of citizens to use them in their war machine. The death of hundreds of thousands under conditions so harsh they literally broke down dead mining ore or building ships for the First Order.

Hux does not flinch back from any of the witness reports, neither from the videos the prosecutor delivers into evidence, apparently taken by stormtroopers and officers themselves. Several spectators leave the hall in between, nausea written into their faces.

Poe would love nothing more than follow them outside, but he forces himself to watch until the end. Just like the first time, Hux does not deny his involvement in anything. According to his testimony he knew of everything that went on and worked for various departments before he was assigned to Starkiller Base.

By the time Judge Aldernon stands up to pass the sentence, Poe has to grip his own wrist to keep himself from punching Hux in the face in front of everyone.

“Given the overwhelming evidence,” the judge calls out, “I declare Armitage Hux guilty on all charges and sentence him to life in the Seantle High Security Correctional Facility.”

He slams down his hammer. A sigh of relief goes through the rows, starting with Leia. Poe lowers his head and grinds his teeth. It’s not enough, but what else is there? The old Republic would have sentenced him to death, but death penalty was the first thing the new Federation abolished. No more murders, no matter how guilty the man.

Hux receives his sentence with his head raised high, unblinking, unmoving. When Poe stands up and yanks at his arm, he follows without a moment’s hesitation. The air on their flight back is icy, although Leia tugs at Poe’s sleeve as the ship lifts off and whispers, “Be happy!” in his ear.

There is nothing he wants to say to this man anymore. Nothing left to discuss, no more doubt. In a week he will be shipped off to Seantle and that is it. Poe will never have to see him again. He pushes Hux ahead of himself, rougher than he should, making him stumble and nearly trip on the stairs. He wants to control himself, but the rage breaks out no matter how tightly he tries to keep it sealed. Hux still does not protest, even when Poe nearly slams him into the hallway wall. But then he opens the glass door to the cell and forces Hux through before it has slid aside completely.

For the first time since the courtroom Hux utters a sound, a pained hiss when his head collides with the door. At the soft yelp, Poe returns to his senses. Fingers numb, heart racing, he takes a step back. A red stripe arches down Hux’s cheek where the glass cut him.

“Sorry.” He takes a deep breath.

“I don’t care,” Hux says quietly. The moment Poe frees him of the cuffs he takes off the cloak and pushes it into Poe’s hands.

“Keep the cloak.” Poe hangs it over one of the chairs and walks over to the exit. “You’ll need it again in a week.”

“If you have something to say to me, say it.”

“Nothing.” He reaches the door, falters in his steps, and turns back to Hux. “No, you know what, this is bullshit! How the fuck can you stand there and act like you didn’t cause the greatest suffering known to mankind? What you did, what you all did was cruel and horrible and I don’t care how much you believed you were making things better, the suffering you caused is real! And it’s going to keep going on for many years to come! Don’t tell me you can justify that!”

“I never tried to justify it,” Hux responds, eyes lighting up. “But I am not going to hide like the rest of those cowards. Snoke, he believed himself all powerful. Whenever he wanted something done everyone went out of their way to do it. He was everything, him and his disciple, but this is me! I am the face of the First Order and that is something he won’t ever be able to take away from me!”

They stare each other down, jaws tight, fists shaking. A single droplet of blood runs down Hux’s cheek towards his jaw.

“So this is what it is for you?” Poe asks quietly. “Revenge against Snoke? You don’t care about what happened to the people? You think this vision of yours, it would really have made the Galaxy a better place?”

Hux raises his chin. “Why are you here? You are trying to make sense of me, but you refuse to see me. Tell me, if I broke down crying, if I told them I had never been loved by anyone, I had only known how to fight for myself since childhood, I was part of a murderous machine that forced me to do whatever they wanted, if I fed them all those lies about myself and painted myself as the victim, would it change a single thing? Would it make undone what has happened? I believed something my father believed before me and when I entered- when I joined the First Order there were already more wheels turning than I could have ever imagined. I played their game and I landed on top. That was my decision.”

His chest rises and falls with laboured breaths. “I will not beg for forgiveness. Ever.”

Poe unconsciously retreats until his back hits the duro-glass. He flattens his palms against the cold surface to keep his fists from curling.

“Your own men hated you. Did you know that? They couldn’t stand you, not a single one of them.”

“You think you’re going to break my heart with old news? Of course they didn’t like me! Do you think Snoke would have allowed a man with charisma to lead the soldiers?” Hux barks out a hollow laugh. “I got to where I was because I was no threat to the supreme commander. He knew I wouldn’t charm the soldiers away and make him trouble. I was the perfect leader because I knew how to follow orders and how to give them and because I wasn’t popular or strong or Force sensitive. He left me out of his bullshit because he could order me around and forget about me. You think you can throw that in my face and make me admit my own inadequacy? You know nothing about me!”

Poe’s heart thunders in his chest. _If Snoke was still alive this battle would still be raging._

“I wish…” He does not know how to finish the sentence. He shakes his head.

Hux’s eyes stay fixed on him as he opens the door, steps through, locks the cell, and walks away.


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> long chapter, lots of stuff happening.

“He’s back.” Hux makes no effort to move from his bed, sitting with the data pad propped up against his pillow. “Come to bid me farewell?”

Poe raises the bottle of Cassidian Ale he brought along. “Last night in the cell. Looking forward to prison?”

Hux raises an eyebrow. “You’ve decided to make it an interesting night.”

“It’s just ale. You can’t get drunk on ale, but it sets the mood.”

“What mood? If you’re trying to romance me-”

Poe raises the game board he brought along. “ _Monster Party_. I’ll have you know, my heart belongs to someone else.”

“A former stormtrooper perhaps?” Hux taps his data pad screen, then stands up and saunters over to the table. He cleans his cup and plate from it and sets them into the food dispenser. “How does the wooing go?”

“He might be straighter than I expected.” Poe enters the cell and uncorks the bottle. He unloads the game board onto the table, then pulls a container from his pouch. “Nut pie?”

Hux eyes the deformed little pastries with a wary wrinkle of his nose. “Where’d you get those?”

“Made them myself. First try. You’re my guinea pig.”

“What an honour. Let me guess, your stormtrooper has sworn his eternal love to the scavenger girl.”

“He might have. It won’t hold, though, and as soon as she breaks his heart I’m going to swoop in and piece it back together.”

“Brilliant plan.” Hux brings his cleaned cup over to the table. “So, ale and pastries. Do you expect me to break into tears and stammer words of gratitude now?”

Poe snorts. “Wouldn’t that be a sight. It’s not like you asked me to do any of this, so no, you don’t owe me gratitude. I mean, would a thank you be nice? Sure. But as you know, I am a benevolent person who does not do what he does for the gratitude of the people but for the knowledge in his heart that he leaves the world a bit better than he found it.”

Hux’s lips curl. He sits down. “Good.”

Poe starts the game. “I won’t make it as easy for you this time.”

“Promises, promises.”

As the intro loads, Poe pours ale into Hux’s cup and his own, then picks up a nut pie and bites off a chunk. “Could be worse.”

“Eat the whole thing.” Hux raises his cup and takes a delicate sip of ale. “I shall only risk it once I have ascertained that you did not die from it.”

“Snob.” Poe shoves the rest of the pie into his mouth, then takes up his controller to select map and party.

The campaign starts well for him, leaving him a huge advantage when Hux blunders and accidentally kills one of his stonemunchers. He lays a curse onto the other one, then leans back to watch Hux frown and press his lips together while he tries to salvage the situation.

Part of Poe feels reluctant to imagine tomorrow. Being sentenced to life at the age of thirty-one sounds like the worst thing to happen to him. One day, twenty years from now, Hux might look back at the folly of his youth and realize he ruined his life over a dumb conviction that had him following the wrong man. To imagine that this is the last time this man will be outside prison walls, drinking ale and playing games whilst ignoring the nut pies next to him, strikes a wistful note in Poe’s heart.

“So,” he says as Hux begins biting down on his bottom lip, “since this is the last time I can get any information out of you, tell me. Is Kylo Ren a virgin?”

Hux’s eyes shoot up from the playing board to Poe’s face. He blinks.

Poe returns the stare, unfazed. He has no goal with his question, merely a faint curiosity. Imagining life in the First Order is nigh-on impossible for him.

“No.” Hux lowers his eyes back to the board and moves his cardinal forward.

Poe thrums his fingers on the table. “How do you know? Oh, don’t tell me- it was you! You took his virginity!”

Hux’s lips curl into a disgusted grimace. “I’d rather rot in hell than stick my dick in that unhinged fleabag.”

“Then how would you know?”

“What do you think,” Hux says and carefully avoids any glance in Poe’s direction, “went on during those long hours that Ren and Snoke spent behind locked doors on meetings I wasn’t invited on?”

Poe swallows hard around the sudden lump in his throat. “You’re joking.”

Hux shakes his head. “Trust me, I’m not.”

“But…” He raises both hands a fist wide apart, moves them left, then moves them right. “Ren is, well, young and looks like a softie and Snoke was… he was so old and so ugly…”

“Well done. You’ve broken them down to their bare essentials.”

“How- I mean, _how_?”

“You want schematics?”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite.”

“Was it… mutual?”

“Unlikely.” Hux switches the controls over to Poe. “He had night terrors. Ren, that is. No one else knew, I think, but our quarters lay close enough to each other that I heard him scream at night.”

Bile rises in Poe’s throat.

“It was annoying as hell.”

He stares at Hux, scratching his ear, face unmoving as he talks.

“That’s horrible, all of it.”

Hux does not react.

“He never- Snoke, he never tried that with you?”

Hux purses his lips. “For once, not being Force sensitive had its perks. I was way too boring for that old pervert to care about me.”

“If he’d tried, would you have let him?”

Hux looks up and meets Poe’s eyes. “Yes.”

Silence falls, heavy like rain.

“You have no idea what I would have been willing to do for power,” Hux says.

Poe breathes flatly through his nose to combat the nausea threatening to sweep him away. “But he didn’t try.”

“No.”

“Huh.” He tears Hux’s moss crawler to pieces. “That old guy really had no taste in men, huh.”

Hux’s eyes still pierce him. He goes for a noncommittal shrug and grin.

“I think I told you last time in no uncertain terms,” Hux says softly, “that I wouldn’t resist.”

Ants crawl up Poe’s arms and down his back. He shakes his head to get rid of them. “You’re only saying that to bait me into doing something that will cause a mistrial.”

“That would be genius if the trial hadn’t ended already. There is nothing to declare moot anymore. This is, after all, my last night.”

Poe carefully keeps his eyes on the game. “Sorry. Like I said, my heart is taken.”

“By the stormtrooper.”

“He’s not a stormtrooper anymore, you know. Hasn’t been in a long time.”

“You think that erases his time as a stormtrooper?”

Poe looks up. Hux is surveying the position of his troops. One more round and he is going to fold.

“How very hypocritical of you,” Hux drawls, “to blame me for every little crime happening in the proximity of the First Order, but to magnanimously overlook the murders your preferred boy toy has committed while being stormtrooper.”

Poe squares his jaw. “Finn doesn’t murder.”

“How do you know? Have you seen the bodies? Have you read the reports? What do you think happened during his training and during those first years where he was so eager to prove himself?”

Hot, white rage, so powerful it shocks Poe speechless, flashes up in his stomach. The buttons on the controller squeak under his squeeze.

“Oh, didn’t he tell you?” Hux drawls on, smile curling like acid around his mouth. “He was quite the overachiever, you should be proud. He would never have come this far had he not been good at following orders. You blame me for giving those orders, but he was the one who chose to execute them. Fighting men, helpless women, children in villages, it made no difference. Have you never asked him about those times?”

“Shut up.” It lodges in his throat, nearly making him retch. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Did you even vet him when you allowed him into your little base, or did you decide not to ask too closely?” Hux drones on, voice bouncing with mirth. “All of our stormtroopers have waded in blood. Do you think we would have allowed someone with no stellar record to join a mission as important as retrieving the map to Skywalker? The simple fact that he was there means that-”

“Shut up!” Both of his fists slam onto the table. Fingernails dig into his palm, hard enough for the pain to eat through his anger. Vision blurring, blood pounding in his ears, he screams at Hux. Not Finn. He won’t allow him to talk like that about Finn, not him-

“You think I’m so bad and he is so good.” Hux sneers. “All I did was give orders. The one to execute them was-”

“He is not like you!” Before Poe knows what he is doing, he is seizing Hux’s collar and dragging him from his chair. Hux hisses in pain as his back collides with the wall.

“Don’t you dare-” Lunges back, slams Hux against the panels again with a force that drives all air from Hux’s lungs. “Don’t you dare talk like that! Finn is a hero! You’re nothing! You’re less than nothing! You couldn’t compare to him if you tried for the rest of your life!”

Hux’s high-pitched laugh shrills in his ears. Only when the laugh tears off and turns into a cry of pain does Poe return to his senses. His fists dig into Hux’s throat and shoulder, shaking from the strain of his muscles. Chest heaving, he forces himself to ease on his grip. When he lets go of Hux’s throat, Hux gasps.

For a minute, all Poe can do is stand there, still close enough to be a threat, to make sure that Hux doesn’t attempt to talk again, but hands lowered so he doesn’t throttle him anymore.

 _Get it together. He is trying to bait you, don’t fucking let him. Breathe_.

The moment he stops slamming him into the wall, Hux’s expression relaxes. He opens his eyes and looks up, pale blue piercing straight through Poe. Raises a hand, winds it into Poe’s neck, thumb running along his jaw, leaving a trail of hot tingles in their way. Before Poe can react, Hux leans forward and fits their mouths together.

His first instinct is to flinch back. Bring some distance between them before his body can react. But while he is still working on regaining his muscle control, another thought steals into his head.

_This might be the last time for the rest of his life that he is kissed by someone._

Call it pity. Call it whatever. Poe moves forward until their bodies touch, curls a hand under Hux’s chin, and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. A galaxy of nerves thrills in his lips as he moves them against Hux’s, gives him a kiss worthy of the last one for eternity. His mouth, his neck, every place where Hux touches him, flares up and burns in bright, hot need that threatens to crush him under its force. He moves his jaw, and be it only to deepen the sensation, and nearly gasps against Hux’s lips, fingers jittering, heart beating, fire racing through his skin.

Hux makes a soft little noise in his throat and suddenly he cannot take it anymore. Poe pulls free and steps back. The world around him is swimming. He combs a hand through his curls, panting, trying to make sense of what just happened. He can’t.

With some satisfaction he notices that Hux has sagged against the wall, knees just a little bit weak, apparently as affected by the kiss as Poe is. Still, this is too dangerous. He has to get out of here.

Wordlessly, he dumps both ale cups into the dispenser, packs up bottle and box with nut pies and game board into his bag, then heads straight for the exit. It must be turning night outside. In the morning, the Federate Police will come and take Hux away and he never has to think about him or what happened in here ever again.

At the exit, hand already hovering over the key panel, Poe falters. Too many new questions, not a single answer. He wants to stop himself, he can’t.

He turns around.

Hux is still leaning against the wall, hand wound into his hair, watching Poe like a lion a gazelle. Poe meets his eyes.

Not smiling, but his lips have turned a dark shade of red, freshly kissed and still remembering. “Leave and it’s over.”

“I can’t. I’d be breaking every single principle I have.”

Hux flashes him a cold smile. “Never broken a rule before?”

Poe shakes his head, opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes to mind. Stars, this should be an easy choice. His last night, and tomorrow he will be shipped to Seantle and then it will be over, all over.

“Fuck.” He grabs the woollen cloak that is still hanging over the chair and throws it at Hux. “Not here. Come on.”

If he expected questions, resistance, mockery, he did so in vain. Hux pulls the cloak over his shoulder, the hood down to his nose. It’s a large hood that perfectly shades a person’s face.

“Wrist.”

Hux holds out his wrist and Poe opens the wristband, drops it onto the floor. He has no time for this, no time for anything. This is madness. If anyone catches him, he will lose his position, their trust-

He grabs Hux’s arm and pulls him outside, up the stairs, then stops him before they reach the guard. On tiptoes, Poe sneaks forward. The guard’s face has dropped to the table and he is snoring. Another time he might get angry, but not tonight; tonight he drags Hux past the guard, to the ground floor, and then into the labyrinth of hallways that leads to the living quarters. It must be dinner time, because the hallways are nearly deserted. Laughter drifts from the common room, but Poe guides Hux through the smallest and least frequented paths, heart racing, listening to every footstep, watching every shadow move.

Only when he slams his hand on his own key panel and the doors slide open to reveal his quarters, does his anxiety ease up. Palms sweating, he locks his doors with every security measure available and the physical bolt he never uses, before he turns around. One word sends BB-8 into hibernation mode.

Hux has cast off the cloak and his shirt as well and is standing in the middle of his bedroom, looking up at the posters on his wall.

_Don’t start thinking about it now, because if you start thinking about it you realize how fucked up this is and then-_

When Poe walks up to him, Hux turns around and meets his eyes. Blinks and slams into the wall, Poe pressing into him, and all restraint evaporates. Hands claw at his neck, dig into his hair as Poe pushes into Hux’s mouth, wild with hunger, licks the sweet taste of ale from Hux’s tongue that winds around him and pulls him deeper. Fingers dragging down naked skin, feverishly hot and damp, as though made to feel Hux, squirming to meet his touch. Want and need uncoiling in his guts with a roar that frightens him, as Hux grinds into his groin, cruelly, seducing him to trail his fingers lower and _feel_ -

It should not be this easy.

His knees give on their own and he sinks down. His mouth seeks the soft skin on throat and chest, leaves heated red bruises on white skin where he sucks mouthfuls of Hux against his tongue, hungry for every bit he can reach, down into the trail of ginger curls leading to the trousers. A gasp from above when he presses his mouth through the fabric to the hard bulge underneath and breathes out.

Hux’s fingers wind into his hair and pull him off just enough so he can hook his free hand into his seam and yank down his trousers, complete with briefs. Poe, still held back by Hux’s hand, watches the pants drop raises his eyes, stares. Then Hux relaxes his grip and he sinks forward, mouth open, tongue waiting for the first taste.

Above him, Hux laughs softly, then chokes off. Eyes closed, fingers holding on to Hux’s thighs, Poe sucks, desperate to still the hunger inside him, while Hux’s grip turns harder, voice locked away between teeth and lips, threatening to burst from his throat in half-escaped moans. Poe chases those moans, tongue and throat working, heart singing from the pure pleasure of feeling the weight of Hux’s cock in his mouth.

His hunger is nowhere near stilled when Hux breathes out a curse and spills down his throat. Swallowing him down barely takes off the edge. Licking him clean until Hux squirms away and sags against the wall, only makes him hungrier.

When Poe stands up, Hux’s lids hood his eyes in exhaustion. All strain is gone from his face. He looks at Poe with the purest of expressions, hair falling dishevelled around his cheeks, lips reddened, throat working on breathless pants.

_Shit, he is beautiful._

A man like that should not be this beautiful.

“Come on,” Poe mutters and tugs him towards the bed, shedding every thread on his body on the way.

Wordlessly, Hux steps out of his trousers and follows him. He allows Poe to manhandle him onto the sheets and stretches out with a sigh. The harsh edges that seemed second nature on him have all but vanished.

_Shit, but if I’d known he could be like this, I’d have done this weeks ago. Before that. Snuck onto the First Order Dreadnought and fucked the sneer right off his face._

Poe snorts, hoping Hux won’t ask, but Hux doesn’t even seem to listen. He hums a soft agreement as Poe bows over his torso and returns to exploring his skin, this time with leisure. Hours seem to pass between Poe wandering his hands over the ridge of his stomach and trailing wet kisses down his sternum, lapping at nipples and sucking the belly button.

It’s when he reaches the thicket of red curls between Hux’s legs that lazy fingers wind into his hair and tug.

“Dameron,” Hux mumbles almost in a purr. “Come up here.”

Poe obeys. Hux pulls him in for a languid kiss, then shoves him into the mattress. Skin prickling, Poe stretches out expectantly, aware that his chances of being strangled and left for dead tower over the chances of literally everything else, but then Hux licks a long stripe down his chest and he knows the risk is worth it. By the time Hux reaches his cock, Poe has come to learn that his tongue is magic in every best sense of the word;, running curves and twists that leave him on edge and making him shiver with strokes as light as a feather.

He shuts his eyes when Hux closes his mouth over his cock. Five seconds later his eyes fly open when Hux’s nose buries into his pubes. Hux pulls off nearly completely, winds his tongue around the tip, and dives back down, apparently completely void of gag reflex.

This, this is what heaven must feel like. When Hux continues to work him over, all he can do is lie there and take every last bit of it, the delicious twists of his tongue, the tight squeeze of his throat. Too soon, way too soon, he is ready to spill, and in that moment Hux pulls off and moves upwards again.

When he straddles Poe’s waist and smirks down at him, Poe is aware that he is panting with his mouth hanging open. He stares up at Hux, who thumbs at a wet trail on Poe’s chin, then closes his hand around Poe’s throat. The slightest pressure and instead of panic, which would be rational, arousal unleashes through Poe’s whole body and makes him shiver.

Hux bends lower until his lips brush against Poe’s ear. “Fuck me.”

Poe closes his eyes and nods. He flips Hux onto the bed, and pins his arms into the pillow, before he leans down for a long, hard kiss. Hux arches up into him, fingers flexing in Poe’s grip.

“Like this,” Poe mutters against Hux’s mouth, open and gasping for more, “or from behind?”

Hux scoffs, though without heat. “You think I want to stare you in the face like a lovesick puppy?”

Groaning, Poe grabs his shoulder and pushes him face-down into the bed. “For once, I agree.”

He nips at Hux’s earlobe while he allows his fingers to explore the expanses of his thighs bulking up into his perky backside. Drags his cock against his ass cheeks and they part to let him slide between. It’s almost enough to make him come here and now. He hangs his head, breathes in the scent of Hux’s arousal. With his left hand he fumbles for the drawer of his nightstand, pulls out lube and condom; condom first, then lube and lots of it, before he bends over Hux’s ear again and presses his lips against the soft skin between ear and hairline.

“I’m going to make it so good,” he whispers and Hux shivers, “but it’ll hurt. You like that, don’t you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Hux hisses back and that is all the confirmation he needs.

Spreads Hux’s legs on the mattress and holds him down, mostly for the pleasure of it, before he lines up and gives it a tentative push, then a hard thrust. While is brain is still trying to comprehend that he has somehow managed to slide his cock into (Ex-)General Hux without being torn apart by blasters, Hux chokes out a harsh cry into the pillow. Poe pulls back, returns. Slides deeper and fuck, Hux is as tight and hot as any virgin arse, except that the way he grinds himself into Poe, shivering from the strain of taking him so fast while allowing him in so deep with so little resistance is as far from virgin as can be. He muffles desperate moans in the pillow while his whole body arches to meet Poe’s thrusts.

All gentleness drops like lead; instead, Poe starts driving into Hux hard and fast, allowing his body to set the rhythm, pricks of pain in his thigh where Hux’s fingers claw at him.

Still those abandoned moans, nearly inaudible from the pillow, but he wants to hear them. He grabs a fistful of ginger hair to pull Hux’s face up.

“By the by,” and his words nearly drown in his panting, “these rooms are soundproof. Nobody can hear you. Let it out.”

“What, so you can have your fun?” Hux bites back, but a long, high moan swallows the latter half of his sentence.

Poe grins and grinds into him harder. “Yeah.”

“Fuck you.”

“On it.”

He laughs when Hux moans again, and sinks his face into the steaming heat of his neck. Shudders of pure pleasure run through his entire body, erupt on his skin in sharp tingles, and run like current straight into Hux’s body.

“Shit, for some reason I expected you to be less hot,” Poe pants into his ear. “Kinda cold, a bit like stone...”

“What the- ah- what the fuck did you think I was, a vampire,” Hux snarls, only he cannot snarl while melting in pleasure against Poe’s body.

“Maybe. Are you?”

“I know I’m intimidating, but-”

“You’re not.” Poe laughs a silent laugh against Hux’s shoulder. Pleasure turns into a pulsating ache, demanding relief, but if he gives in it will be over and he doesn’t want it to be over. He likes Hux beneath himself, shivering from the pleasure Poe fucks into him.

“Beg your pardon?”

He still talks like a snob, though.

“You’re not intimidating. Not even in your uniform. Not even with weapons on your belt. I was never once afraid of you.”

“That’s it, get off me, you damned-”

“Always thought you were kinda hot, though.”

The anger drops from Hux and leaves him silent.

Poe feels for his cock, rutting in the sheets, and closes a firm palm around it. “Especially in that uniform, mmmh, you still got that somewhere? Always wanted to peel you out of that uniform and slam you up against one of your countless consoles and see what you looked like undone.”

He tugs at Hux’s earlobe with his teeth. “And look, I was right. You’re fucking gorgeous when you’re being fucked into the sheets.”

“You-” Hux gasps, squeezes his eyes shut, shivering so hard his fingers slip from Poe’s thigh. “You’re not… haa-” And then he trails off and never recovers.

Poe speeds up the mindless jerk of his hand, right to the moment Hux jolts in his grip and spills over his hand. Too hot, too close, too much to keep in. Pressed against Hux’s back, fingers slippery with Hux’s release, he comes.

Never has he felt as good as now, spent and clinging to Hux’s back, dropping into the mattress like a stone while Hux has sunken down as limp as Poe feels. The heat becomes too much and he moves away and turns on his back, eyes closed, to bask in his orgasmic afterglow. For a few brief moments the world grinds to a halt and allows him perfect bliss.

Then, slowly, as his senses recover, does his brain take up work again. The horny side that took over somewhere between Hux suggesting he would let Poe do whatever he wanted and their first kiss, has returned to slumber and his rational side pries open one eye and sniffs the fresh air after the storm.

Dread descends onto Poe so fast and so final that it nearly shocks his soul from his body. He jumps from the bed and scampers into the bathroom to plunge his face into cold water. Horror surges in him while he scrubs his face, his neck, dumps the condom and scrubs the rest of himself as well, but no matter what he does his skin keeps buzzing from Hux’s touch.

Hands stemmed against the rim of the sink, he stares at his own reflection. Still Poe Dameron, ace pilot, handsome as the devil.

_I left him alone in there, my blaster-_

He bolts from the bathroom as quickly as he entered, images flashing behind his eyes of Hux shooting him dead, taking him hostage, killing his way out of here…

Hux is lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling, hands crossed behind his head. The blaster is locked in the safe. General Organa got really strict about gun control when tensions rose and fights broke out more often. Wheezing, Poe sags against the door frame.

“I fucked up. I shouldn’t have-” He presses his hand against his chest while Hux turns his head to look him up and down. “I need to go to General Organa and come clean. She’s gonna kill me. She’s gonna put me in the brig. Or maybe deliver me straight to prison. Hey, we can go together and then-”

“Could you have your existential crisis once I’m not covered in cum anymore?” Hux interrupts him.

Poe shakes his head. Too many knots and twists in his brain, keeping him from thinking straight. “I didn’t plan to do this, I honestly didn’t. I just… shit, it’s been so long since I’ve even had sex. The whole war kept me so busy that I didn’t have the time, or the mental capacities, and now that things have calmed down there’s been so much else…”

“Look who you’re talking to.” Hux sits up, bunches up a pillow and leans against the back rest. “It’s been over a year that I’ve even had the opportunity. And for someone who’s about to do a vacation in prison, this wasn’t the worst way to spend my last night.”

Poe hangs his head, ready to admit defeat. Things are as they are; no use freaking out over them now. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Where is the ale?”

He takes the bottle from the bag he carelessly cast aside to wrestle his nemesis against the wall, grabs two new cups from his little canteen, and brings all of it to the bed.

“I’ll take one of those pies as well,” Hux says without moving. Making demands of others comes naturally to him.

Poe huffs, but he’d rather not have Hux stalking around his room, sniffing at things, so he complies. He sits down on the bed with the box of pies, pours ale for himself and Hux, and hands one of the cups to Hux.

“So out of curiosity, how the fuck did you get laid in the First Order?”

Hux quirks an eyebrow at him.

“No seriously. Is it- do you have to file a request with your supreme commander?”

“Only below the rank of captain.”

Poe gawks at Hux, who snorts into his cup. “You’re messing with me.”

“Of course I am. I wait till I have business to do on one of the core planets, take shore leave, put on civilian clothes, visit one of the gay bars in the cheaper parts of the city, grab the next guy who looks acceptable, take him to a dimly lit hotel, fuck his brains out, then leave before he can get a proper look at me in good lighting.”

“Shit. Seriously?”

Hux picks up one of the nut pies and nibbles at it. “It’s either that or fuck one of the cadets and sexual relations inside my own fleet are a bad idea. Are there men eager to do anything to please me? Yes. Do I want them to know the smallest bit about my sexual preferences? Fuck, no.”

“Because they couldn’t keep their mouths shut.” Poe watches Hux finish the nut pie. He can’t suppress the spark of pride lighting up inside him. He laboured for those pies.

“Exactly. The moment I tell him to fuck me till I see stars every single stormtrooper will know about this. You never mix business with pleasure.” Hux reaches for another pie. “These aren’t bad, although it might be the severe lack of edible food recently that makes me say this. Why you’d go through the trouble of making things yourself if you have a proper dispenser is beyond me, though.”

“Sometimes you need to make things yourself,” Poe says. “Can’t always eat dispenser food.”

Hux shakes his head, but he does not comment.

“Last time proper food, last time ale, last time sex.” Poe raises his cup. “Are you ready?”

“Unless someone in there makes me their bitch,” Hux hums and raises his cup in response.

“Don’t even joke about that.”

“It’s not a joke, it’s a distinct possibility. Considering I’ll be in semi-solitary confinement it’s probably one of the guards.” Hux empties his whole cup, holds it out for more. “I’d be a good bitch; I’ve done it long enough. Might give me some perks.”

Poe refills his cup. “You’re awfully casual for talking about shit like that being done to you.”

“It’s just shit,” Hux sneers. “Violence is simple and it’s boring. I’m a survivor. If I need to play someone’s bitch to survive that’s exactly what I am going to do.” His eyes flit across Poe’s face. He traces a finger along his jaw. “See, it’s exactly this defiance of yours that makes it so much fun to torture you. You’ve got to learn to work on that.”

“I’d rather fight to my last drop of blood.”

“There’s enough people that would take you up on that offer.” Hux places his cup on the nightstand and sinks back into the pillow, closing his eyes. “Humour me for a while. Tell me how you escaped.”

“Escaped where?”

“When we had you. I know the gist of it. Kylo Ren got that info from you and then he threw it into my face with so much hubris I was going to punch him, if only he didn’t wear that stupid helmet. Next thing we learn is that one of our very own stormtroopers has run away with you. We shoot you down, you land on Jakku, and yet somehow you survive. Fill in the blanks.”

Poe stretches out next to Hux and props up his head on his palm. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Stormtrooper comes in, takes me away, pulls me into a narrow aisle and tells me he wants to steal a TIE with me. Leads me to the hangar and I climb in there and fly out like a boss while they shoot at me.”

“So wait.” Hux turns around to face him. “That was not premeditated?”

“Nah. Never seen that guy before in my life. But he got me out all right and then our ship exploded and the emergency seat propelled me way out of the trajectory of the rest of the ship. I go down next to a village with a transmission station, so I radio the Resistance. Thought I’d never see that stormtrooper again. I tried to beep my droid for days, but it didn’t respond, so, you know.” He shrugs. “I get the hell out of there.”

“Holy shit.” Hux throws himself on his back and presses both palms against his eyes. “You’re incompetent. You’re complete idiots! How the fuck did you escape us- worse, how did you ever stand a chance, that was pure luck! You survived on pure luck!”

Poe laughs. “We had the Force on our side.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I choose to believe that.”

“Bunch of incompetent losers. What the fuck did we invest in all that equipment for, in all that training, all the discipline if in the end it’s a group of complete buffoons who best us?”

“Beats me.” Poe lies down, picks a nut out of a pie and throws it into his mouth. “I mean, all we did was basically run on faith and luck. You should try it some time.”

“Should never have bothered with you.”

“Aw, come on. It was fun.” Poe grins up at Hux. “I loved our little exchanges via intercom. They always left you fuming.”

“I don’t appreciate people tooling with me.”

“Ah, because you’ve never in your life trolled anyone.”

Hux turns to his side and casts a long look on Poe, lips pursed.

Poe pushes himself up a bit. “Do tell.”

“There was…” Hux shakes his head. “Ren kept his isotonic water bottle outside the training room on principle. One late evening he put in a three hour training session and I may have spiked his water with Bespin Brandy. All those drinks he downed, they tasted so sweet anyway that he didn’t notice the brandy.”

Poe snorts. “Did it work?”

“He started staggering around the bridge, telling everyone what a fine job they did and how much he wanted to find a little water planet and go surfing. Then he started singing shanties.”

Poe hides his face in Hux’s shoulder, giggling. “Did he find out who it was?”

“Nah. Next day he nearly murdered one of the lieutenants who was dumb enough to mention the incident to him, but no one else volunteered any information and he was too embarrassed to demand answers. I maintain that he had it coming.”

When Hux raises his chin, Poe places a kiss on his jaw and closes his eyes at the fluttering pulse underneath his lips. He inhales deeply, senses swimming from Hux’s scent. “Why aren’t you nervous?”

“About what?”

Poe raises his head. “It’s over. Tomorrow you’ll be shipped to Seantle and spend the rest of your life behind bars. You’re thirty-one and your life is done for. Are you really satisfied with things being this way? How in the stars can you be so chill about all of this?”

“Blazes, you’re melodramatic.” Hux tilts up his chin with one finger and captures Poe’s mouth in a languid kiss, slow and deep. There is something in the way he kisses, without any urgency, that makes Poe’s bones hum with pleasure. When Hux breaks the kiss, Poe has nearly forgotten what got him so flustered. “My life is not over. If I get out in five years I’m thirty-six. Still plenty of time to get hired by one of the best companies in the Galaxy and become manager before I am grey. If I get out in ten years I’ll still only be forty-one. I have plenty of time.”

Poe stares at him, brain unable to comprehend what Hux is talking about. “Get out.”

“Of course.” Hux purses his lips. “You really don’t know anything about Judge Aldernon or Seantle, do you?”

“I- what? Not really.”

Hux sighs. “Aldernon is an old friend of Snoke’s. You should have vetted your judges better before you used them, but I assume you had sparse alternatives. Seantle Correctional Facility is famous for its rehabilitation program. They reform criminals, they don’t keep them indefinitely. If they truly encounter a hopeless case, they don’t keep them, but transfer them to Anoat. Now, if that’s where I was headed I can promise you I’d be anything but chill. But Seantle? To tell you the truth I am kind of looking forward to that. No power play, no constant running around to follow the orders of a madman, no constant threat of death.”

“It’s still going to be prison. How the hell do you plan to get out?”

Hux shrugs. “We’ll see. They have collaboration treaties with several universities, you know. I’ve been thinking about getting an MBA. I always thought if I didn’t get into the military I’d have gone into economics.”

Poe snorts. “An MBA. You.”

“Is that so unfeasible? I got my BA in political science, so why not? I liked the university.”

“And then what? Who do you think is going to hire you?”

“Oh, Dameron.” Hux smirks down at him. “All the big businesses in the Galaxy. They’ve been fighting over me ever since the trial began. Blazes, if I’d wanted to I could have promised any one of them my loyalty and they would have bought me out of that farce of a trial. I chose not to.”

Poe turns on his back and stares up at the ceiling, trying to comprehend what Hux is telling him. He knew the system was rigged and that Empire sympathisers still have too much power in the high positions. But even so, it cannot be that easy for someone responsible for that much death and destruction to go free.

“Why not? You can’t love the idea of going to prison that much.”

“Can’t I? I turned them down because I am sick of playing sycophant to some rich, powerful asshole who thinks he can own me. I did it with Snoke, I did it with Kylo Ren. I’ll do it to survive, but I am sick and tired of it. Prison has rules, but it doesn’t require me to act as though I love what they do to me. Right now I’d rather be free of all that bullshit than return right to the heart of it.”

Hux climbs over Poe and straddles his waist. His weight settles on Poe and sets flutters of arousal free.

“Watch me,” Hux whispers. He traces the line of Poe’s cheek down to his jaw, brushes a shock of curls from his temple. “I’ll be out in no time.”

Poe shakes his head, but before he can answer, Hux bends down and claims his mouth with a kiss. When Hux’s clever tongue sneaks past his lips and licks warm tingles of pleasure into Poe, his eyes flutter close. He rubs his palms along Hux’s thighs and up his waist, memorizing the texture of his skin.

When Hux breaks the kiss, Poe is panting.

“Not even you can get out of there within five years,” he whispers.

Hux huffs and grinds himself slowly into Poe’s lap and against his hardening cock. “You’ll see. I’m a survivor.”

“If you do, I’ll personally drag you back into prison.”

“You’re welcome to try.” Captures Poe’s cock between his thighs and works it over in slow rolls of his hips, each one sending hot surges up Poe’s spine. “The more interesting question is, what will you be doing in five years?”

“Probably still putting bad guys behind bars.” Poe snatches Hux’s neck and drags him down into another kiss, one that ends with Hux biting down on his bottom lip nearly hard enough to draw blood.

“You say that now.” Hux straightens up and rummages around in the open nightstand drawer next to the bed. He lifts a condom between pointer and middle finger and raises an eyebrow at Poe, who nods. “You’ll get sick of the killing. You’re not made for it.”

“I’m not doing this for the fun of killing.”

“Oh, but this is what it boils down to.” Hux slowly sheathes himself on Poe’s cock, eyes closed. He opens them a slit to flash Poe a cynical smile. “The Resistance lends its reason for existence to the First Order. Without the First Order you are nothing but a military organisation. Sure, for Organa it’s perfect. She’ll die doing this, probably. She has no issue with the violence and knows better than anyone else that if she doesn’t do it, someone else will do it worse. But you? You’ll want out.”

“Don’t tell me what I do or do not want to do.”

“You’ve been feeling it already, haven’t you?” Hux brushes a barely shaking hand through the curls sticking to Poe’s forehead. He rides Poe in deep rolls of his hips that leave Poe jerking in sharp bouts of pleasure. Sweat beads on his temples and runs down his neck.

“The Resistance is more than a killing machine.”

“For now. But the smaller the bands you hunt, the more it will come to killing. You’re not a killer, Dameron. You’re a pilot. A leader. There are more ways to pilot and to lead than by running a paramilitary organisation.”

“What’s it to you, anyway? If I choose to remain with General Organa, that’s my decision.”

“Mmh.” Hux bends low and kisses him, tugs at his bottom lip. “Just make sure it’s your decision.”

“I won’t be able to make many decisions, anyway, if anybody finds out what I’m doing right now.”

Hux huffs and suckles his lip into his mouth. “Hey Dameron. I’m not a nice guy and I don’t do things for others, so this is a special moment. But here is what I’m going to do for you.” He buries a hand in Poe’s hair and scratches his fingers along his skull to release a flurry of bright tingles. “What happened tonight won’t ever leave this room. I won’t tell a single soul about it, so you better do the same.”

They do not talk after that. Poe pulls Hux close in lazy kisses and deep thrusts, until he is shivering with pleasure, unable to hold back anymore. Hux’s breath has turned rough and fast, tremors running through his body. Finally he cries out helplessly against Poe’s mouth and collapses, muscles contracting so hard they slam all breath out of Poe’s lungs. He thrusts up into the slick heat, comes.

Hux stays atop of him, a trembling, moaning heap glazed in sweat. Poe pats his back. “You good?”

In response, Hux grunts. He collects himself to slide off of Poe and drop onto the mattress, still panting. Poe barely finds enough strength to rid himself of condom and wipe himself off, before exhaustions claims his senses. He wraps possessive arms around Hux, mostly to make sure he cannot try any shenanigans, and falls asleep.

***

Sunlight bursts into his room and wakes Poe up. He blinks awake, slowly becoming aware of the warm weight next to him on the bed. When he turns around he inhales a cloud of ginger hair.

“Shit!” He shoots up, shock slamming into his system, and grabs his data pad. It’s 6:30 in the morning. “Hux. Hux! Wake the fuck up, they’re coming in half an hour!”

Hux groans and swats at his hand.

“Get dressed.” Poe grabs his clothes and pulls them on.

“I need a shower.”

“Shower in your cell. Seriously, get up!”

Grumbling, hair tousled, Hux reluctantly allows Poe to prod him to his clothes. “I stink. I’m sticky and I stink.”

“Come on, if they find out that you’re out of that cell-”

“What happened to coming clean?”

Poe drapes the woollen cloak around Hux’s shoulders and pulls the hood into his face. “Keep your mouth shut and I’ll do the same.”

He nudges Hux out of the door and runs almost straight into a group of pilots on their way to breakfast. In the last moment he manoeuvres him into a narrow alley. They break out into a light jog, when voices comes closer. Poe stops, heart racing, as the laughter of a group of cadets echoes through the hallway.

“In here.” He pulls Hux into the next sidearm.

They almost reach the entrance hall they have to cross for the door to the lower levels when steps make them stop dead.

“It’s probably a system hiccup,” a captain is saying as she rounds a corner with another captain. “He’ll be gone in a couple of minutes, anyway. Why check on him now?”

Adena and Marlo. Poe closes his eyes. If they check on Hux’s cell now they will detect that he is gone.

“Faster.” He drags Hux back into the maze. They run along the hallway too narrow for two people side by side, hunt for the door leading to the staircase, reach it seconds before Adena and Marlo round the last corner. Nearly tripping on the stairs they rush down the three levels. On the second level the guard is still snoring on his table. The third floor is empty. The cell is exactly as Poe left it last night. He slams his code into the pad and the door slides open.

Hux steps through and casts off the cloak, laughing with sparks in his eyes. “Congratulations. You broke every rule in the book and somehow it worked itself out.”

Panting, Poe grabs Hux by the neck and presses a kiss to his mouth. The thrill of the escape has made him daring. When voices drift in from the stairs, he pulls back.

Hux bends down and picks up the wristband to hand to Poe. Their eyes meet while Poe fastens it around his wrist again. Before either can say a thing, the two captains appear at the door.

“Ah, Poe,” Adena says. “We saw a notification that the prisoner’s wristband had been opened. What happened?”

“False alarm,” Poe answers and suppresses the windedness of his voice. “I’ve reset it, check again.”

“You’re right.” Marlo raises his data pad. “Must have been a bug.”

Poe straightens his back and takes a step back towards the door. “Everything’s all right. Good work, captains.”

“Ready for transport?” Adena asks.

“Looking good.” Poe grins and pats Hux, who has assumed his usual haughty sneer, on the back.

“Hey, since you’re here, could you take a look at my X-Wing?” Marlo asks. “It’s been making a weird noise and I remember you said something about how you fixed yours?”

“Erm, sure.” Poe turns away from Hux, who keeps his lips pressed shut. “Since when has it been acting up?”

“A couple of days. Yesterday when I tried to go into hyperdrive it started descending instead. Can we do it right now?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, I mean, do you have anything else you need to do?”

Poe shakes his head. He leaves the cell and locks it again. Adena and Marlo take him between them as they head for the stairs. They don’t even leave him a chance to look back. He follows Marlo to the X-Wing and, left without a choice, calls up the interface on the console.

He has barely finished troubleshooting the system, when Finn steps onto the hangar. “Hey.”

Poe waves down from the X-Wing. “Had breakfast?”

“Yeah. I wanted to ask if you want to fly a little mission to the Javin 4593 station with me?”

“What’s going on there?”

“A group of First Order troopers has given themselves up. General Organa wants us to bring them here to assess them and decide what to do with them.”

Poe whistles through his teeth. “We’re getting more and more of those, aren’t we?”

Finn nods. “Wasn’t there talk of opening a shelter on Naboo?”

“As soon as Leia can swing it. For now I guess this has to do.” Poe jumps onto the ground. “Where is Rey?”

“Oh, she’s staying behind. It’s been so long since you and I have flown a mission together. I thought we could have some time for ourselves.” Finn pulls a rueful grin. “I know I’ve been pretty swept up in the relationship stuff recently, but Rey agrees that we shouldn’t forget our friends. She’s going to scout out Naboo with Rose and General Organa. It’s just us two this time.” He rubs a hand along the back of his head. “You game?”

On the other side of the hangar a ship has landed, the logo of the Federate Police on the side. Four men exit, dressed in police uniform. Poe watches Leia greet them and lead them towards the base.

He turns back to Finn. “Of course I’m game. Let me take a shower and eat something and then we can go.”

“Neat. I’ll go ready the ship.”

“Hey Finn.”

Finn looks up at him.

“I know we’ve never really talked about this, but I want you to know that whatever happened with the First Order, whatever they made you do… none of it is your fault.”

“Whatever they made me do,” Finn repeats with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, the people they made you kill before you left them. You had no choice.”

“Poe, I was in sanitation.”

Poe stares at him.

Finn shrugs. “I never killed anyone. The mission to Jakku was my first one and I didn’t even fire my blaster then. Why do you think I needed to leave so quickly? They wanted to send me to re-education, because they realized I hadn’t participated in the slaughter.” He offers a skewed little grin. “I never killed anyone while I was with the First Order.”

_He lied to me. He fucking lied to me._

Poe grins back. “Oh. That’s a relief.”

“I don’t kill innocent people, Poe.”

“Yeah, I should have known.” He throws an arm around Finn’s shoulder. “You’re too good for this shit.”


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I was already done with the fic at this point, but then my brain started going what if...? And now we're here, with a couple more chapters to go. Blame my brain.

The room is empty safe for the table Poe is sitting at. Garish white light streams down the barren walls and stings in his eyes. When the door opens, he turns around. An officer leads Hux into the room, then closes the door to leave the two of them alone.

Poe expected something different from a visitor’s room in a prison. A hall, maybe, with families crying over their incarcerated sons and dads. More officers lining the wall. This seems almost irresponsibly careless, he thinks, until his eyes fall on the electronic cuffs on both of Hux’s wrists. Poe has seen cuffs like these before. They allow him full movement as long as he does not make any rash movements or uses too much force.

“You don’t look too bad,” Poe understates. They could have put him in ugly orange overalls, but no, the prison uniform is a light grey shirt on dark grey trousers. Somehow Hux manages to still look offensively pretty in them. “You’ve filled out a bit.”

“Food isn’t too bad,” Hux responds evenly.

He could have denied the visit. The fact that he did not, leaves Poe weirdly queasy, even though he is the one who made all the way to the remote facility to see him.

“How have the first two weeks of prison treated you?”

Hux links his fingers on the table. “It’s funny, but I feel almost more at liberty here than in the First Order. I only see my cell, the inner court and the dinner hall, of course, but it’s enough. No one tries to read my thoughts or slams me into walls.”

“What, no becoming anyone’s plaything?”

“Supervision is ridiculously tight, so no. I’m afraid I have to disappoint you.”

Poe grins. “You’re not bored already?”

“Actually, there is a digital library with all important news stations. It’s better than that ghastly cell in your base. Besides, the prison has a contract with the Coruscant Federate Academy for a fixed number of spots.”

“That’s a damn good university.”

Hux hums. “You tell me. They never manage to fill all spots, which should not surprise me, but still. It’s such a shame. I have enrolled in their economics program. You get points even for simply enrolling, it’s laughable.”

“Points,” Poe repeats. He leans back in his chair and ruffles a hand through his curls. Even though he is not the one in cuffs, the narrow room and the oppressive air leave his scalp itching.

“Yes, they have a point system. If I accumulate five hundred points in five years, I earn myself a hearing to decide parole.”

“So you do some studying and they let you out? That sounds a bit too easy to me.”

“Not just studying. Maintenance jobs, prison labour, no transgressions, of course. Still, it shouldn’t be too easy to abuse the system. They give points for practically everything.”

“I think that’s the point.” Poe grins at him. “Besides, it’s just a hearing. You still have to pass.”

“Just wait and see.” Hux raises his chin. “Now. What are you doing here?”

Poe shoves both hands into his vest pockets. “I didn’t like the way I left things.”

“So you came all that way just to say goodbye?”

“Something like that. And to make sure you were all right. I still feel like I’ve been taking advantage of you.”

“Well, duh.”

Poe nearly slips off of his chair. He knew he was playing a risky game when he was hoping for Hux of all people to make him feel better about what happened. Still, having it thrown in his face like that deals him a heavier blow that he was ready for. Pain shoots through his heart.

“You used the fact that I was alone, hopeless, and completely out of options,” Hux states, voice so calm he nearly sounds like a droid. “Just as I used the fact that you were pitying me and felt left behind by your friends. You’ve done me a favour, Dameron. I don’t fuck people because they make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. At least this way we both got something out of it.”

The pain subsides a bit. Of course Hux is not the sentimental type. Why even bother? “I still feel bad about it.”

“Don’t make that my problem. I’m not here to make you feel good about yourself.”

Hux raises an eyebrow and stands up. “You won. Don’t expect me to like you after you obliterated everything I have worked for. Also, don’t come back here. I got what I needed from you; you’re released.”

He raps on the door; it opens and an officers takes him away. Mouth hanging open, Poe stares as the door falls shut behind Hux.

“I wasn’t planning on coming back here,” he calls into the empty room. “Rot in here for all I care, damn ginger general!”

An officer enters. “Are you finished? We need the room.”

“Yeah, I’m finished.” Poe stands up. “I’m finished and tell that guy- no, tell him nothing. He doesn’t deserve words.”

The officer nods as he accompanies Poe to the exit. “I’ll tell him that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, wouldn't it be funny if I updated this in real time and made you wait 5 years for the conclusion...? JK, I'll see you Thursday.   
> Next couple of chapters will be rather short, but after that we'll finally arrive at the main part of the story.


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love letters! Who doesn't like love letters?

Date 11.23, 8013 C.R.C.

Transmission from the Seantle Maximum Security Correctional Facility

From: Armitage Hux, No 632

To: Poe Dameron

Dameron

You didn’t actually have to send me those headlines; I had the displeasure of being forced to watch the entire race in the common room, because apparently not being one of the boys rescinds me the privilege of choosing the TV channel. Congratulations, you have won the Coruscant-Castell Ace Derby. You truly are the greatest pilot in the Galaxy. I did not root for you, of course, but for Ken Minru, who would have won had you not shamefully sabotaged him.

Prison, as it turns out, leaves me with little to do, so I devote my time to reading. I am far ahead in all my classes, though it turns out that it does not earn me more points to finish the program ahead of its two year schedule, so instead of risking boredom later I merely book more classes than I technically have to take. I already shudder to think of the time past my studies. Manual labour does not suit me. Don’t say I reap what I have sown – no one should toil away at scrubbing blood off toilet stalls, no matter how heinous their crimes.

A Hux


	10. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be a couple more letters. I've grouped some of them together, so it won't get too long (splitting some other chapters), but you'll have to have a bit more patience neverhteless. Have fun with the letters!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted the wrong chapter, goshdarnit. Try this one.

Date 03.30, 8014 C.R.C.

Transmission to the Seantle Maximum Security Correctional Facility

From: Poe Dameron

To: Armitage Hux, No 632

Hux

You didn’t need to put quite so much cynicism into your last letter. I know you didn’t hope for me to win, but the Naboo Championship is worth so much more than the Coruscant-Castell Derby. I don’t know what to do with all that money, except I do.

As you probably don’t know because you are in prison because we put you there (never forget that), Finn has been swamped with requests to mediate between former stormtroopers and the places where they have ended up. He and Rey have started an Ambassador apprenticeship program where they find Force sensitive stormtroopers and civilians and train them to foster peace in the communities. I have put all my prize money into a big pot and started a foundation that does the same thing for non-Force sensitive people. I use the money to give them small loans so they can start a business or retrain to find work.

I call it *drum roll* the Resistance Foundation!

I almost begrudge you your cosy life behind bars while the rest of us has to deal with the fallout from the First Order. Have you heard of the new Skywalker Fleet? General Organa has declined the offer of the Federate Republic to take over the official fleet and started her own thing on Naboo. So many planets that we still haven’t freed, so many troops that have fled into the Outer Rim or the Unknown Regions. Some of the people we free claim they have sighted Kylo Ren, but so far we haven’t come any closer to him.

In one thing, at least, you are right. It’s no fun for me to fight in fights that are nothing but barraging opponents who are clearly going to lose. I leave most of the fighting to General Organa and the younger pilots.

I expected you to drop the Academy courses as soon as you realized they wouldn’t let you blow stuff up. Kudos to you for keeping at them.

Poe Dameron


	11. 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I promised three updates a week I really didn't take my nerves into consideration, ahaha (don't worry I'm not going to backtrack now)

Date 07.12, 8014 C.R.C.

Transmission from the Seantle Maximum Security Correctional Facility

From: Armitage Hux, No 632

To: Poe Dameron

Dameron

I cannot believe how often your face is plastered all over the news. I also cannot believe that you went ahead with that pipedream idea of yours. Microloans CAN be an effective way of grassroots financing, but they rarely ARE. You are going to default within six months, mark my words. I have attached a whole list of books and articles on everything that can go wrong with microloans, only to rub it in your face what a phenomenally bad idea this is.

You keep asking me what is going on with me; the answer is, as always, nothing. The second semester nears its end and I have to decide what to take in the next one. If I play my cards right – and I always do – I have a chance of receiving leave to take one class in the actual Academy in the fourth semester, so I am building my schedule around that possibility.

The most interesting candidate so far is Professor Yolathan Wrice, who has in recent years made somewhat of a name of himself by studying the effects of local start-ups in poverty-stricken areas on the wider regional economy. Before you draw conclusions from my decision to focus on a project that aims to bring relief to places particularly affected by First Order actions, let me assure you that any interest on my side is strictly performative. Points, Dameron.

As always, stop bragging about your accomplishments. The moment I get out I will surpass you no matter what you achieve.

A Hux


	12. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another couple of letters. I'm trying to fit five years into as short a time as possible. Have patience with me, the story will pick up action again soon and then it's gonna be so much fun!

Date 01.06, 8015 C.R.C.

Transmission to the Seantle Maximum Security Correctional Facility

From: Poe Dameron

To: Armitage Hux, No 632

Hux

Attached you find my last interview with the _Coruscant Economic Review_. I know you receive the newspaper in prison, but I also know how much you love it when I send you proof of my achievements, so you better appreciate that I do this just for you.

Remember the list of books you sent me a couple of letters ago? I finished all of them and more; one author I found especially intriguing is now on my board of advisors. So when you later read in my interview how my business has taken off and is actually helping people on the ground find roots around the larger planets, remember it’s all thanks to your benevolence. I have also talked to your professor, Wrice, and he thinks we could do more. I want to do more. I want to start a housing project that creates new places for the displaced to stay. I am currently flying all over the Galaxy to get people to help me. I have five people working for me now. We go to local communities and get small businesses to give jobs to ex-Stormtroopers or people from the labour camps. We thought about large companies as well, but Wrice thinks small ones are better, because they provide a tether to the community.

He has also taught me how to raise more funds by appealing to large companies. You know the ones you mentioned, that got rich during the war? A lot of them are struggling with image problems right now. You wouldn’t believe the sums of money they are willing to fork out just to put themselves into a positive light again.

Rose – Senator Tico of Naboo – has been a great help. She is giving us all sorts of tax exemptions and has appealed to the Federate Republic to give us starfighters for our protection. She and I have bonded quite a bit over the shared heartbreak of having Finn drop us for a thin white girl. It has given us a lot to talk about.

Finn and Rey by the way are somehow still happy together. They and their disciples keep me company whenever I travel into the less stable regions. It’s appalling how much of the Galaxy is still broken off from the Republic. General Organa hasn’t had a minute of quiet ever since the war has ended.

Sometimes I wish we could have you on our side. You were good at rallying people.

Let me know how things are going for you. Your studies are coming to an end, so you’ll have to decide what to do afterwards.

Poe Dameron


	13. 13

Date 09.27, 8015 C.R.C.

Transmission from the Seantle Maximum Security Correctional Facility

From: Armitage Hux, No 632

To: Poe Dameron

Dameron

It’s like a curse – wherever I look I am haunted by pictures of you. Fine, I’ll admit it – your ridiculous idea took off. You are on the best way to save the Galaxy, again.

As mentioned in my last letter, I am finished. It is hard to believe that I have already spent two years in this place and even harder to believe that I will somehow have to go through another three years at least. As to what I am going to do now, that path has been decided now and I am quite excited to share it.

Professor Wrice has offered a PhD candidate position to me and since I have nothing better to do, I have decided to take it. I will under his supervision study how prison work ties into recidivism rates and building a life after prison. Basically my part of the project will be to observe the prison labour system from the inside and find out what kind of motivators are most effective and how to improve the system in a way that it actually benefits the prisoners. Now, you might say that is an awfully benevolent act of me and I will shut you up right here. It is doable since I am in prison, anyway, and with my experience in stormtrooper training I merely happen to be perfectly equipped for the job. Trust me, I am not going to go out and try to make people happy in the future.

One of the perks of the program, however, is that I earn a lot more points by participating in prison labour as part of the study than I would earn otherwise. Another one is that I will gain opportunity to travel to different correctional facilities to draw comparisons. In fact, my first stop will be Coruscant, though I won’t be anywhere near the centre, but on the western outskirts.

In any case, I allow myself to feel vaguely hopeful about the next three years.

Don’t send me any more articles about yourself. I throw them all away without affording them a single glance, anyway.

A Hux


	14. 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note to every single commenter: I see your comments and I love to read them. Thank you so much to everyone! Honestly, they keep me motivated and make me want to write more. I love talking to all of you and hearing your thoughts, so thank you, thank you, thank you!

Date 10.14, 8015 C.R.C.

Transmission to the Seantle Maximum Security Correctional Facility

From: Poe Dameron

To: Armitage Hux, No 632

Hux

Congratulations to finishing your MBA and to starting the PhD program! I’d love to say I’m surprised by the news, but I have to confess something. Professor Wrice actually came up to me a couple of weeks ago. The prison warden has told him that I am in contact with you and he asked me to write an evaluation of you to help him decide whether to offer you a place in the project, so I knew about it before you did yourself.

No need to thank me. You know I do everything I do for the sake of feeling good about myself, and besides I only wrote the truth as I see it. Apparently it was enough to convince him. I am truly looking forward to hearing how the project goes.

Now, before you read the news about me (and I know how eagerly you soak up every bit of information about me you can get in that lonely, sad, cold little prison cell of yours) and get worried, I am fine. I was hit on my way to one of the rogue gang bases and pretty roughed up for a couple of days, but I am already on my way to recovery and we managed to get out almost fifty civilians. We have brought them to Naboo until we can help them resettle. I have promised Finn to take it easy for a bit while he cleans up the rogue base with Rey, so no reason to worry at all.

In other news, I have decided to relocate my permanent home to Coruscant, upper Cobbler District. The headquarters of the Resistance Foundation will remain on Naboo for tax and regulation reasons, but we have our office on Coruscant and many of our clients end up here, anyway. Plus, the night life is better.

Poe Dameron

***

Date 11.02, 8015 C.R.C.

Transmission from the Seantle Maximum Security Correctional Facility

From: Armitage Hux, No 632

To: Poe Dameron

Poe

I had expected Wrice to vet me, but still your message caught me by surprise. I know how much you hate being thanked for the things you do for others – after all, it would diminish the magnanimity of your deeds if people thanked you for it – and I am no man of gratitude. You’re right; I did not ask you to do this and you said yourself you wrote nothing but the truth, so I will not thank you for what you did. But it takes a large man indeed not to jump at the opportunity to take petty revenge on a man he once fought as an embittered enemy and for that you have my begrudging respect.

A Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side Note: Do not attempt to finish your PhD in 3 years in the real world! It will only work if you actually lock yourself up and never go outside. This is probably the most phantastical element in the whole fanfic and that includes use of the Force and space ships :D
> 
> One more letter to go, then we have action again!


	15. 15

Date 05.10, 8018 C.R.C.

Transmission to the Seantle Maximum Security Correctional Facility

From: Poe Dameron

To: Armitage Hux, No 632

Hux

I know it’s been months since I gave you my last update. Things have been crazy lately – several of my ships were attacked and we’re still not sure if we have caught everyone involved. Finn and Rey have been working round the clock, but it’s too many ships and too many attacks. They are busy enough with the constant fights in the Senate. Last month they spent three weeks in Cloud City because two factions had decided to start a civil dispute. Sometimes I wish we still had more of the old heroes with us, but all Leia advises us to do is hit everyone with blaster cannons.

Anyway, I have opened another base on Jakku, of all places, because I’m hoping we can turn things around a bit there. I could actually use a good economist who knows how to jumpstart a practically dead market in a place that is rich of precious metals and run by the worst crooks in the Galaxy. Any takers?

You probably won’t have much time to write me with your defence coming up, but I wish you all the best. I know how argumentative you can be and I’m not worried. Knock ‘em dead!

Poe

***

Date 07.13, 8018 C.R.C.

Transmission from the Seantle Maximum Security Correctional Facility

From: Armitage Hux, No 632

To: Poe Dameron

Poe

The defence went well and I am writing to you now as Armitage Hux, PhD. I can barely believe how fast the last three years went by, or that I am still the same person. Now, while I am still reeling from everything that happened since I handed in that blasted thesis, my commutation meeting is coming up.

You know how much I hate relying on others for anything. I cannot remember the last time I asked anyone for help. Today, however, I must ask for your help. The warden has requested that I propose people who could testify at the hearing on my behalf and I have given them your name. I understand that you have better things to do with your life than to help a man you believe belongs behind bars for the rest of his life walk free. Yet here I am, asking you to do exactly that. All I ask is that you speak honestly, in the hope that it will be enough as it was once before.

You would have my gratitude.

A Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, what's gonna happen next, what's gonna happen next, are you as excited as I am...? :D


	16. 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, the new map on Guild Wars is pretty fun and I lost track of time... 
> 
> But! Things are happening! Oh, what is Poe going to do??

The call reaches Poe at sunset while he is wrapping up the day. The face of the warden of Seantle appears on the large screen at the wall opposite his desk.

“Mr Dameron.”

“Sir.” Poe leans back. “I have expected your call.”

“Ah, so Hux has informed you about the hearing.”

“Yes.”

“Would you be willing to testify?”

“Absolutely.” Poe picks up his data pad and opens his calendar. “Just tell me when and I’ll be there.”

“It will be in the ninth month, first day at twelve thirty, Coruscant central time.” The warden fingers his moustache. “Can you make it?”

“Shoot.” Poe scratches his beard. “I have a meeting there with potential investors that I’ve been trying to reach for months. I’d hate to move the date. Can we do it a day or two later?”

“I’m afraid not. The date of the hearing is firm and you have to appear in person.”

“I could also come a day or two before that, no problem. It’s just, if I move the meeting I don’t know when it’ll happen. You don’t understand the sum of money that would cost me.”

“Well, you can always decline. We will ask someone else to testify, maybe Master Finn or General Organa.”

Poe bites his lip. “That would not… end well for Hux.”

“There is always next year. If the board decides not to grant him parole this time, he can apply again in one year. He will have to gain more points in the meantime, but given his record so far I’d say that’s not an issue for him.”

“Is there no other way? Does it have to be this day or another year? That sounds awfully strict to me.”

“I’m afraid those are the rules.”

Poe ruffles his hand through his hair. He closes his eyes for a moment. Then he nods. “I understand. I will be there.”

“Are you sure, Sir? It really is no trouble for us to find someone else.”

“No, it’s alright.” He sighs. “I will testify.”

“As you wish. I would like to talk to you before the actual meeting about your organisation. Do you have time now or shall we schedule another day?”

Poe gestures for the warden to go ahead. “I was going to finish for today, anyway. Let’s talk.”

***

Warden, representative of the Federate Judicial Court, three correctional officers, and Judge Aldernon sit in a semi-circle staring down at Poe, the single defender manning the opposite seat row. The hearing has not even begun; yet already sweat is running down his back, making him itch. He lets his eyes trail from face to face, each one sterner than the one before. Once again, even though Hux is the one on trial, Poe feels as though he was being judged today. The officers have a particular way of convincing him with their stares that he has committed tons of serious crimes, all of which will be dragged out in the open today.

The warden clears his throat. “Mr Poe Dameron, you have kindly agreed today to testify on behalf of Armitage Hux, former general of the First Order, current inmate at the Seantle Correctional Facility. Please give a brief explanation of how you first met Mr Hux.”

“Yes.” Poe straightens his back. “I met Hux about seven years ago when the First Order captured me and he oversaw my torture to extort information about the map leading to Luke Skywalker from me.”

The representative of the Federate Judicial Court leans over to Judge Aldernon and whispers something in his ear. The three correctional officers exchange glances with each other.

Poe clears his throat. “I did not like him much back then, but it was the start of our rivalry where I tried to prevent him and his friends from oppressing the Galaxy and he tried to murder us all with his death laser.”

“I see.” The warden turns to the documents lying in front of him. “How would you describe your relationship now, considering you were once enemies.”

“Oh, I am almost positive that he wouldn't try to stab me anymore even if he had the chance.” Poe suppresses a grin. “We started talking while he was a captive of the Resistance five years ago and since he had given up on trying to murder me we got along surprisingly well. So we stayed in contact. He keeps me informed on his life, I keep him informed on mine.”

The warden purses his lips and rifles through his documents. “Do you have the impression that Mr Hux has undergone changes serving his sentence?”

Poe leans back and stuffs both hands into his trouser pockets. “Absolutely. He has shown remarkable perseverance in working with the program. His research is closely connected with improving the lives of the people harmed most by the First Order. In fact, I think he could do a lot of good if given the chance to apply his skills. Under the right supervision he could make some reparations after all the damage the First Order has caused.”

“Indeed.” The warden coughs. “This brings us to our next point. Mr Dameron, you have created a foundation that works actively to bring relief to people harmed by the First Order. If Mr Hux were to work under your supervision, he could take big steps towards his rehabilitation.”

“Yes.”

“On the other hand, if we released Mr Hux to find his own employment he would most likely end up with one of the big enterprises that covertly supported the First Order during the war. He would make it far for sure, but ultimately only bring more suffering to the Galaxy. It is in everyone's interest to prevent that from happening. My question to you, Mr Dameron, is, would you be willing to employ Mr Hux for at least ten years and oversee his reintegration to society?”

Poe nods. “Yes. As we have discussed, I could settle Mr Hux in our housing department. He would work on site erecting houses for victims of the First Order labour camps and once we can be sure that he is serious about his rehabilitation I can move him to the finance department where he will advise our clients. I have consulted with the department heads and both of them are willing to participate in the program.”

“Thank you.” The warden looks up at the representative of the Federate Judicial Court. “With this, all concerns should be addressed. Any further questions?”

Judge Aldernon leans forward. “With all due respect, Mr Dameron, you’re a pilot who has spent years of his life destroying the First Order and putting its leaders behind bars. What is your motivation to let one of those leaders out of prison now and to go so far as offering to supervise his rehabilitation?”

Poe takes a deep breath. He has been waiting for this question. “My intention has always been to make the Galaxy a better and safer place. For that purpose I have spent many years fighting the First Order. However, if you have looked into my work for the past four years you will find that I have spent equal energy on rehabilitating stormtroopers and giving them jobs in local communities. Many of these people have once fought for the very organisation I have fought to bring down. If I did not believe that people with the proper support system are capable of changing for the better, I would not be doing this job. I will grant you that Hux is a special case and guilty of many more atrocities than your regular stormtrooper. But with the education and the research he had been dedicating himself to for the past five years, he now has the chance of affecting positive change in the Galaxy. I believe that he could do more to make amends for his past crimes by working outside of prison in my foundation than he could ever do rotting away in here.”

“Then,” the representative of the Federate Judicial Court speaks up, “are you, Mr Dameron, personally in favour of commuting Mr Hux's sentence and allowing him to rejoin society?”

Poe exhales slowly. This is it. He is now holding Hux’s fate in his hands. If he asked his old self what he should do in this situation, the answer would be clear. Only a crazy man would allow someone as guilty as Hux back into the Galaxy. But he is not his old self anymore and he hasn't spent his last four years watching the amazing change people could go through once given the chance to do better to let old bitterness ruin it now.

“Yes.” He meets the representative’s eyes with a straight look. “I am.”


	17. 17

The entrance hall to Seantle Prison is as bleak as its visitation rooms and its conference chambers. Poe waits in front of the security scanners, heart fluttering a bit more than he would like to admit. A lot has changed over the past five years. He has changed. While his photos have plastered the news ever since they toppled the First Order, this is the first time in five years that he will meet Hux face to face. He rustles a hand through his beard. He likes his face as it is now, a bit more refined than before, with his neatly trimmed beard. He has no idea what Hux looks like, though. Maybe prison turned him ugly.

Beyond the security pass, a door opens and a small, round, brown woman steps trough, saying something to the man next to her. The man looks down at her, not exactly smiling, but a warmth in his eyes.

Poe's jaw nearly drops.

Hux has aged, certainly. His edges have sharpened, his hair grown. He keeps it tied together in his neck. All the tension, the barely suppressed anger, the hatred have eased from his face and left it-

Shit, he is handsome. Worse than that, he talks to the officer perfectly at ease while he follows her through the security scanner, the hint of a smile edged into mouth and eyes. A few strands of hair have freed themselves from the tie and fall over his cheeks. His frame, clad in a dark grey turtleneck and dark blue trousers, is slim as always, though it has filled out a bit compared to before.

While Poe is still staring, Hux looks up. The smile drops from his face. His eyes widen for a heartbeat as they meet Poe’s, then trail down his face, linger at his beard, take in the rest of him in a gaze that leaves Poe warm and tingly all over.

The officer tugs at Hux’s sleeve. He turns, smile back on his face, and takes the bag she points to on the conveyor belt. Slings the strap over his shoulder, inclines his head in greeting, and steps out of the prison zone and up to Poe.

“Fancy meeting you here,” and purses his lips a bit, which does not make things any better.

“I’m your lift back to Coruscant,” Poe replies, aiming for easy-going and failing. “The warden asked me.”

“How convenient.”

“Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The ground undulates like waves under Poe’s feet as he leaves the entrance hall and steers towards the hangar, Hux in his trail. He nods at the shiny interstellar racer, sleeker and faster than an X-Wing, waiting for them right in the first zone.

Hux whistles through his teeth. “Not bad. Who’s flying this bad boy?”

“Me. And only me. No one else touches the consoles.”

Hux raises his hands, laughing. “All right, Sir Dameron, lead the way.”

They don’t talk any more while they climb into the racer, Poe in the pilot’s seat, Hux in the co-pilot’s seat, and lift off to shoot from the airlock into the atmosphere. The pressure glues them to their seats as the racer accelerates until it makes the jump into hyper lane. Poe switches over to autopilot and turns to Hux.

“Welcome back to the outside world.”

Hux keeps his eyes on the screen showing them nothing but blackness all around. “I can hardly believe it. It worked.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe how easy you made it look. I’m impressed.”

“You came, though.” Hux looks at him, bottom lip drawn between his teeth. “I asked you to come and you did and whatever you said, it did the trick. Thank you.”

The words hit Poe straight into the guts. His breath sticks in his lungs. “I- you’re welcome. You said thank you.”

“I told you I owed you gratitude. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Poe laughs. “Do you know what’s going to happen now?”

“Yes. They asked if I was okay with it. Apparently I am going to work for you now, or rather for your foundation. I am going to do-” Hux closes his eyes. “I am going to do philan- ugh.” He grits his teeth. “Philanthro-”

Poe’s grin splits his face. “Come on, say it. I want to hear you say it.”

“Philanthropic work.” Hux gags a little. “That was hard.”

“Yeah, you are. You’re gonna do good. I am putting you in the housing section. You’ll be working your hands for a while, doing some actual building. We only use sustainable materials and we keep it affordable. It’s a great project.”

“You’re sure this is the best way to make use of my abilities?” Hux strokes a strand of red hair from his eyes. The movement of his fingers leaves Poe mesmerized.

“No, but I’ve made a plan with the warden. You’ll have to start at the bottom if you want to keep your freedom. If you do well, you can move up to finances. We work closely with our clients, give them advice, find employment for them, help those that take out a loan manage their funds. We also find local jobs for those the Republic keeps under observation, you know, because they held a higher position and might still be in contact with one of the rogue groups in the Outer Rim territories.”

“Like me.”

“No, you’re special.”

Hux looks at him, quirks an eyebrow.

Poe shrugs. “No one quite has your history. You’re the only one of the higher-ups we’re allowing to work directly for our foundation, because if we allowed the rest of them access to all the personal information they could wreak a lot of havoc with it. Our job is to introduce them to local businesses, not give them work ourselves.”

“Then why make an exemption for me?”

“Honestly? Because we could use your expertise. Both as a former general of the First Order and as an economist. I have read your thesis.”

“You have.”

“I have. I didn’t understand all of it, but enough to know that you could help us a lot. The whole question of how to motivate people with a low outlook on life has been bugging me for years. We’ve had some issues.”

“Well, I suppose if I can’t have the comfortable desk job at something like the Sugi Weapons Consortium, this is the next best choice.”

“It is indeed.”

“Glad we cleared that up. Now, is the ship on autopilot?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. How much longer are you going to keep staring at me?”

Poe meets Hux’s eyes, watching him with an amused twinkle and behind that lurking something darker. Something ravenous that kindles a heat inside Poe’s guts, making him move without thinking.

The racer follows the hyper lane, leaving behind the prison at point three parsecs the hour, and Poe’s scalp is tingling from Hux’s fingers running through his curls, his lips locked with Hux’s, tongues meeting, exploring each other, famished. Poe slides his hand down Hux’s back, feeling the ridges of his spine, the arch of his waist, then rides it back up underneath the sweater, digging his fingers into hot flesh. His lungs expand on a deep inhale; he fills his nose with Hux’s scent, his mouth with his taste, bites down on his lip, and when Hux utters a soft moan in response, presses kisses against his cheek, his jaw, bites into the soft skin below his ear and tugs.

Hux breathes a laugh into his ear and rests his forehead against Poe’s. Hearing him gasp for breath fills Poe with a deep satisfaction, knowing he made Hux’s pulse race like that. He brushes a silken strand of hair back, then brushes it again for the feel against his fingers.

“So,” Hux whispers, voice dropped to a deep growl, “how’s your favourite stormtrooper doing?”

“Good, actually. Married, two kids. Twins.”

“Charming. Are you still pining for him?”

“Hmm, nah, I’m over it. Turns out I’m kind of into gingers.”

Hux laughs again, presses another kiss onto his mouth. “Tell me more.”


	18. 18

The office darkens down as most colleagues leave for the night. Poe refreshes his messages without intention of answering a single one of them. Office work has never interested him much apart from planning new missions, so he has successfully foisted the biggest tasks off to eager sections chiefs. He keeps the parts of the job that do appeal to him, mostly flying rescue missions into the Outer Rim, where scattered rogue gangs have taken over planets formerly managed by the First Order. Recently, too many of those missions have ended in failure, so Poe made sure to take the lead on the last one. They only found a handful of civilians on the ice moon right before the line that even Poe has not yet dared cross, but the success of their rescue still leaves him buzzing with new energy.

He should reward himself today. He considers going home and taking up his game of _Rebel Ace_ , or maybe going to midtown to see what the clubs are up to. He might call Finn and invite him out for a pint. Except, no, Finn is still on Castell trying to prevent a civil war. Who is he kidding, anyway. If Poe is being honest with himself, none of his options are what he really wants to do.

His fingers play with the smart pad on his desk, flick through the messaging apps, then push the pad away.

That first night when he got Hux out of prison, he should have dropped him off at the on-site barrack that his workers use for emergency housing and that served as temporary lodging for Hux while he looked for a nearby flat. Instead, Poe took Hux into his own apartment. That night Hux stayed with him, with very little sleep and so much mind-numbingly fantastic sex that it left Poe dazed for three days after. Since then, they haven’t exchanged a single word.

Maybe this is what Hux wanted. One brief, intense encounter after five years locked away, and now he’s got it out of his system and moved on. It certainly is what Poe hoped would happen, to finally get rid of the itch that has been plaguing him for five years, so he could return to sanity.

He has dated, of course, quite a bit. As it turns out, being the hero who saved the Galaxy left him without wanting in suitors only too eager to get into his bedroom. He has had tons of sex, passionate, perfectly good sex. But what he had with Hux that night was more real and raw than anything he had experienced to date. Sex with Hux was passionate in a way only a man who has been alone for the past five years can be passionate and desperate in a away only a man who has been worshipped by people too afraid to lose his affection to selfishly take until they left him shivering and drained can be desperate.

It’s a matter of ethics more than of logistics. As the boss of Hux’s boss he has had his contact data saved in his phone from the moment Hux had contact data. The reason he has not used it so far is easy – he did not know how. How can he call up the man who once casually ordered to have him tortured and killed and ask if he’d fancy a date? Sex is one thing, dating something totally different. Sex works with hatred, a date not so much.

He could ask for sex, of course. Hope that Hux hasn’t quite had his fill yet and agrees to a meet-up. But although Poe is no stranger to casual sex, he has never been the man to snap a picture of his junk and send it to someone with an offhand “Wanna screw?” As opposed to ninety percent of the online dating pool, apparently, which was the reason why he deleted his online dating profile three days after he created it. He didn’t need it anyway, not as saviour of the Galaxy. With this, however, he cannot play the saviour of the Galaxy card. And Hux is not one of his swooning fans.

Poe slams his head against his desk and buries both fingers in his curls with a groan. This isn’t fair. He should be falling for someone tall, dark and handsome, who likes him for being a good man and who rescues one-eyed puppies in his spare time. The universe shouldn’t demand that he waste his time remembering his mindless fling with the worst man in the Galaxy with an intensity that still makes his toes curl.

He grabs his pad, gets ready to throw it across the room in frustration, and drops it with a flinch when it buzzes. Probably Rose. He owes her an update.

It’s not Rose. Instead he opens the message to a selfie of Hux, holding up his hand with a small cut on his little finger and the words _So this is what your workplace safety looks like_.

With a helpless laugh, Poe drops his head back onto the desk. Maybe the universe really has its fun toying with him. He should go home, get a glass of wine, relax and forget the rest of the world.

He types a reply.

_That looks serious. You should consider going to the hospital._

_I make a poor man’s salary; I don’t think I can afford the hospital._

_You have health insurance. All my employees do._

_I don’t want to spend all of it at once. If my hand falls off I’ll blame it on you._

Grinning to himself, Poe decides to wager. _Maybe I can make it up to you._

_How?_

_Are you free tonight? There is a soup kitchen close to the site that does some amazing things with chicken._

Three pulsating dots making him wait for so long his heart grinds down to its last fibre.

_I hate chicken._

Poe leans back in his chair and stairs at his ceiling for a moment. It’s not a no.

_How about some vegan burgers in Lightbringer’s Square then? You can barely taste the difference._

_Vegan, Dameron, are you kidding me? You’ll have to try a little harder than that._

Poe tugs at his beard. Of course the man has to be difficult. How boring would his life otherwise be?

_All right, there’s Vora’s, a cosy little place in Cliffside Midtown. They have a lot of fish and some local vegetables, all in Hosnian manner, which means spices. How does that sound?_

_I might be amenable to that, only I don’t have a car. With public trains it’ll take me at least three hours to reach Cliffside._

_It’s fine, come to Shinku Station. That’s only a ten minute ride from the site. Wait at the Skywalker Statue rotary on the second floor, I’ll pick you up._

He waits. Heart pounding, fingers jittering. This is madness. But if it works-

_Alright._

He jumps up, grabs his emergency date jacket from the closet, and bolts from the office. Takes the lift down into the garage and hops into his company car, out into the express lane towards Shinku Station before he can think about what he is doing.

“This place is a maze,” is the first thing Hux says when he climbs into the car. “It’s almost as big as a whole Dreadnought.”

“I know, that’s why I gave you exact instructions on where to meet up and look, it worked.”

Hux shakes his head, then looks up and down Poe’s burgundy jacket. “That’s how you go to work each day?”

Poe kicks the engine into ascent and files into the lane towards Cliffside Midtown. “That’s my emergency date jacket.”

“You have an emergency date jacket.”

Poe shrugs, grinning.

“Use that often?”

“All the time.”

“So do I have to expect a visit from a scorned live-in partner in the near future?”

Poe shakes his head. “I’m not seeing anyone. I mean, I’ve been dating, a lot, it’s just never worked out. I think my longest relationship was about two months.”

“That screams commitment issues to me.”

“It’s nothing like that. It’s just, it always turns out that I have very different expectations from my partners.”

“Do tell.”

Poe scratches his beard, eyes on the street. “They want Poe Dameron, saviour of the Galaxy. I want a companion.” He flicks a look over to Hux to find him watching him with pensive eyes. “Um, just to be clear here and not invite any misunderstandings or anything, this is- this is a date, right?”

A pause, long enough to make him lose half his body weight in sweat.

“That was my understanding of it.”

Poe exhales a breath of relief and turns his eyes back on the road.

Next to him, Hux hums. “I am… slightly out of my depth here.”

The confession does more to ease the anxiety in Poe than any cute, slightly antagonizing quip Hux could have offered. He drums his fingers on the wheel as he waits for the jam at the exit of Shinku Centre to clear up. He chances another look at Hux, sitting in the seat, watching the city lights, red and yellow reflecting in his eyes. Light grey, slim jacket over a black shirt; dark blue denim, hair tied up in a loose bun, spilling red strands down his cheeks, framing his face. Less pretty, more handsome, now that experience has matured him and the strain of leading a whole evil organization has fallen away and eased the frown.

“You look good,” Poe says as they speed up again and shoot out over the cityscape of two-storey houses. When the compliment earns him a modest smile, he adds, “I expected more trouble with you settling in.”

“Is this going to be a performance review?”

“No, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable. Is anyone giving you trouble?”

Hux shakes his head. His fingers, long and slender, play with the window button. “I expected your workers to be worse, to be honest.”

“Worse how?”

“You know.” Hux wrinkles his nose. “Your kind of people. Hippies who talk about love and peace all the time.”

Poe bursts out laughing. “How is that my kind of people?”

“Oh, you know. You’re all about Galaxy peace. But the workers, they’re pretty normal.”

“Of course they are. We hired local crew, none of them were part of the Resistance.”

“A lot of them don’t even care about the war. For them it was something happening someplace else. They’re conservative, too, they long for the good old days of the Empire without having the slightest idea what they’re talking about.”

“You’re cross with them for supporting the Empire without knowing why?”

“Exactly. They would’ve gotten nothing out of the Empire. At least I knew how to use the system to my advantage.”

Poe shakes his head, still chuckling. “So you’re getting along?”

“Mostly. I’m not a people person, but it’s all right.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I haven’t met a single reformed stormtrooper yet.”

“That’s because they’re not part of the housing project, they’re in different sections. I figured it wouldn’t be the best idea to put you in charge of your former soldiers. You’re working with the labour camp inmates. I don’t know how many of those you’ve ever met, but-”

“None.”

Poe looks at Hux. Hux looks back.

“I was military. I wasn’t in charge of the labour camps.”

“But in the trial you said-”

“I said that I knew of the camps and that I had seen them. I had no jurisdiction over any of them. I was responsible for stormtrooper units on Starkiller Base first and foremost.”

“All right, that’s good I guess. You’ll meet a lot of the people from labour camps, but at least they won’t recognize you. Is management giving you any trouble?”

“Not trouble, no, but there’s this woman. Peti.”

Poe bites his lip to suppress a grin. “Yeah? What about her?”

“She’s… a handful.” Hux wrinkles his nose. “As far as I can tell she never does any work, but she runs around and forces you into hour-long talks about nothing. I’ve never seen anyone talk so much. You’d do well to strike her off your payroll.”

Poe bursts out laughing. “Peti is our local mental health care provider. She gets paid to have long talks with people and she has been doing amazing. Most people like talking to her; they say it relieves them. Of course you wouldn’t like her.”

“Mental health care provider.” Hux sneers. “That explains a lot.”

“Don’t be so cross. She likes you; as a matter of fact, she’s been giving you glowing reviews.”

“Wait, that woman is evaluating me? How do I not know about this?”

“You do. It was in your contract. Did you read your contract?”

Hux falls silent for a moment. “I may have skimmed a couple of paragraphs.”

“Just talk to her for a bit. Humour her. You don’t even have to bare your soul to her, just be nice.”

Hux grumbles to himself, but he does not respond.

Poe casts him a quick glance to find him frowning at the street lights outside. “How are things going otherwise? An Numa tells me you found your own place.”

“It’s a dump, but at least it’s better than the barracks. It’s also…” Hux fingers his earlobe. “It’s weird. First the First Order and then prison. I have never really had a time in my life when I wasn’t under surveillance. Even in a place of power on the Starkiller I had every hour of my time logged and controlled.”

Poe whistles softly. “This has got to be a change then.”

“Quite. I could never have simply left my quarters to walk through the city and not be conscious of everyone looking at me. I can do that now. I leave my flat at night and walk through the city and I’m all by myself.”

“Ever been to Cliffside?”

“Not since my release.”

“You’ve missed something, then.” Poe parks his car in front of the wooden house bordering on a large park across remote hills ending abruptly in a lake thirty yards below them. “We’re here.”

Dinner passes more peacefully than Poe feared. As though they agreed upon it, they do not touch the heavy subjects. Instead, Poe tells the tale of how he met the owner of Vora’s flying a rescue mission on a planet that, as he learned that day, had the best cattle meat in the Galaxy.

Afterwards, he coaxes Hux into a walk through the fisherman’s district expanding beyond the lakeside. Wooden huts offer freshly caught fish, snails, kelp snacks and everything they could make with those ingredients. Concrete shacks with colourful light displays lure with movies, holo games, and shows. Amphibian lake dwellers shuffle past the interplanetary clientele and leave long, slimy trails in their wake. As Poe and Hux follow the path up from the docks and reach the entertainment quarters, the penetrating smell of fish makes way for incense.

“Even I feel invisible here,” Poe says and raises a hand to ward off a woman clad in pink see-through silk. “Nobody cares who you are around here.”

“Mhm.” Hux stops in front of a window holding all sorts of gadgets from gaming hardware to something looking like a blaster cannon. “I used to be terrified of this. I thought if I ever became a part of the crowd, it would kill me. Now I am beginning to realize how much on edge I used to be, always, every moment of every day. Always waiting for the next attack, the next moment of pain, the next enemy.”

“It can’t always have been that bad. I mean, the First Order, sure. But why did you join it in the first place, if it was so bad?”

Hux half turns his head towards Poe, without really looking at him. Wind tears at his hair and chills their faces. Soon it will be winter. “Because that was what I was destined to do. I went from my dad to Snoke and honestly, I barely felt the difference. He loved the Empire, you know, my dad that is. Kept talking about how it was the best time of his life. When it broke apart, it broke him as well. He jumped from group to group that promised to bring back the old time, but it never worked out. Until Snoke. But by then he was too old and too broken, so instead he decided that I should go in his place.”

“You went to please your father?”

Night has fallen. Soft lights rain down from windows and balconies. Something flutters along the house walls and vanishes into an alley.

“I went,” Hux says quietly, “because he would have killed me otherwise. He tried often enough. But despite all his beatings, despite all his attempts to break my spine or choke me to death, I just wouldn’t be the son he wanted. He would have liked you, ace pilot. I became what I was to survive. I might not have been able to fight a wookie with bare hands, but I was able to survive, better than anyone. And I was proud of that. That’s why I rose so fast, despite his prophesies that I’d get my head shot off my shoulders in the first month.”

He bites his bottom lip, laughs dryly. “When he died I was so angry. He had stolen my chance to prove to him that I was worth something. Ah well, he wouldn’t have survived the fall of the First Order, anyway. If anything could have killed him, this was it.”

Hux turns around properly to meet Poe’s eyes. “This might sound weird, but for the first time in my life I am burdened with the question of what it is I want to do. I have never lived for myself, only for a cause that was too big for me. It’s easy to live that way. Now I am suddenly responsible for myself, it’s odd. I don’t know-” He takes a deep breath. His cheeks have turned rosy from the cold. “I don’t even know what makes me happy. I don’t know what kind of food I like, only what I don’t like. I don’t know what I like in people, only what kind of people I hate. I don’t know how to work for myself if I’m not part of a cause.”

“I know.”

Hux frowns.

Poe spreads his hands. “Trust me, I know. I signed up to the Resistance as soon as I could because I loved the idea of fighting for something greater than me. The more desperate the situation became the more easily I could lose myself in it. Now that it has ended, I am clinging to the last remains of it. Why do you think I run this foundation? Even Finn and Rey, who have managed to make a family for themselves, spend most of their time at opposite ends of the Galaxy. Rose runs around fighting the fight on a different stage and Leia, well, she’s still searching for her son and refusing to take a break. We’re all trying our hardest to avoid coming home to a place so peaceful that we have to ask ourselves, where to now? None of us know.”

Hux looks at him, smile playing around his lips. “Not satisfied with your life?”

“Trying to be.”

“I love it. I love that I can go out and buy myself a taco at two in the morning and nobody asks me what I am doing. I love that I can come home and sit down on my couch and waste my time on a crossword puzzle or a dumb TV series or a game and nobody is going to demand that I make any decisions affecting the lives and deaths of hundreds of people. I love that I can go on dates, I never thought I’d have that.”

Poe raises an eyebrow. “Dates. Had lots of dates since your release?”

“Hypothetical dates,” Hux says softly. “Still testing out the waters.”

“Alright, so on the off-chance that I’m inviting another genocide, if you did exactly the thing you wanted to do right now, for yourself, what would it be?”

Hux raises his eyes to the sky and stares at the stars for a moment. He pulls both hands from his pockets and curls one around Poe’s neck, pulls him in, kisses him. Poe raises his chin to meet him. Eyes closed, he leans into the kiss, marvels at the heat it sparks, at the calm that has come over him at Hux’s words. For a moment he allows himself to stand still.

When Hux breaks the kiss and moves away, Poe grabs his jacket and pulls him closer again. “Yeah,” he mutters against Hux’s mouth, grinning.

“Yes?” Hux is smiling.

“Yeah. Do you want to get back?”

“To the city?”

“My place. Do you want to stay over?”

“Do you have to ask?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Mhm.” Hux kisses him again. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> roll credits! 
> 
> K was like "why does Poe have an emergency date jacket?" and then Hux was like "why do you have an emergency date jacket" so K was like "vindication!"   
> Anyway, I couldn't think of a better title, since the working title "Gingerpilot" was kinda useless, so I decided on this and so this is how my mind works.


	19. 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for more fluff?

“Going already?” the receptionist asks Poe as he steps out of the lift. “You’re getting into the habit of finishing up on time.”

Poe grins and pats her counter. “I have a reason to. You should go, too. Can’t have the union busting my ass because I make my people work overtime.”

He walks over to the seating group with the lonely plant, where a single man is sitting, reading news on his data pad. When he lays a hand on his shoulder, Hux looks up.

“You’re on time.”

“You could have told me you’re waiting already. I would have hurried.”

Hux shakes his head and stows away his data pad. “I use this time of the day to catch up on the happenings in the Galaxy. You’re cutting into my reading time if you make an effort to be punctual.”

“Imagine the horror.”

They take the stairs down into the garage.

“What?” Hux asks.

Poe shakes his head, though he does not take his eyes off Hux. “You’ve tanned. I’d barely mistake you for a ghost anymore.”

“It’s the work outside,” Hux replies with his nose upturned. “Because somebody refuses to let me work a proper job and make enough money to buy my own car and sit down for a minute.”

Poe laughs. “I think it suits you. It’s time you gained some muscle.”

“It’s time I made a decent salary is what it is.”

Still laughing, Poe lays a hand into the small of Hux’s back. Hux stiffens, but he does not protest the touch. They make the rest of the way in silence.

“All right,” Poe says as he starts the car engine. “When do we have to be at the theatre?”

“About two hours. We still have time to eat.”

“Great. Where do you want to go? They have opened a Taun-Taun place in the Lightbringer’s District.”

“I am not going to eat Taun-Taun, what am I, a savage?”

“Gino’s then. He’s got crab back on the menu.”

“I don’t like Gino’s. It smells too much of fish; a restaurant isn’t supposed to smell like fish that much.”

Poe blows out his breath and squares his jaw. “Then maybe we shouldn’t be going out to eat at all if you can’t make up your damn mind.”

Silence falls.

Every time. Of course Poe had to choose the pickiest eater in the Galaxy to date. His hands grip the steering wheel as they zoom past the skyscraper banking buildings towards the crowded entertainment centre. By the time the fast lane spits them out into the meandering streets lined with shops and restaurants, Poe’s anger has cooled off and he feels a bit foolish. He shouldn’t be taking out his frustration on Hux.

“Gino’s is fine,” Hux offers, voice soft.

He knows about the ambush deep inside the remote regions, destroying the best one of Poe’s carriers and a large chunk of Leia’s defence fleet. The small bands of rogues who have filled their ranks after the destruction of the First Order, have started grouping together. Poe’s breakneck attempt to get out civilians from the remaining stations failed miserably, leaving them with less firepower and little support for more missions.

“Vora’s?” he asks. “You’re right, Gino’s stinks of fish.”

“I mean, we could just park the car and pick one of the hundreds of places on this street.”

“Yeah, but you know how much you hate trying out restaurants you know nothing about.”

“It’s fine, look, that one doesn’t look too bad, or- holy shit, what is that?”

Poe follows Hux’s stare out of the window to the giant procession winding its way through the promenade to their right. Above the heads of thousands of people floats a gigantic hologram of the Starkiller. Screens projected onto building walls depict X-Wings racing around the planet, showering it with shots.

“Oh, that’s right, today’s the anniversary of the Starkiller destruction,” Poe says.

“The what?”

“You haven’t seen that one yet, but they celebrate it everywhere. Today is the date the Resistance made the Starkiller explode. It’s a huge thing. That explains the many people and the booths and the decoration… Hey, you wanna take a quick stroll around the festival? It’s amazing, I promise you, and they have the best food stands.”

“Do I want to take a stroll around a festival reminding me of the day I almost died on an exploding planet?”

Poe bites his lip. Starkiller Day has become his favourite holiday, not least because it quadruples the number of people cheering for him. Last year he, Finn, Rey, and Rose spent two whole days partying with former Resistance leaders. Nostalgia hits him hard as he drives past the procession.

“Ugh, fine,” Hux grumbles. “I guess if I were to avoid every single thing that reminds me of that time I couldn’t leave my house at all, anyway.”

“Great, you’ll love it!”

They park the car in a public garage, then Poe drags Hux into the crowd.

“They’re going to explode the hologram later, it’s amazing.”

“Admittedly, this is… impressive.” Hux raises his head and stares up into the sky as a squadron of X-Wings shoots past them through, pursued by TIE Fighters. A rain of holo fire cascades down onto the crowd.

Grinning, Poe leaves Hux to take in the whole spectacle, while he scouts the promenade for the best food truck.

“Blazes, Dameron.” Hux grabs his arm and pulls him closer to point at one of the buildings. The entire wall lights up in a gigantic, moving image of Poe, still young and beardless, presenting a dashing smile in his Resistance pilot uniform. The building next to him shows Finn, another one Rey, the one behind them Leia.

“This is…” Hux inhales deeply. “This is something else.”

“Poe,” Poe says.

“What?”

“You’re calling me Dameron again. You started calling me Poe in your letters, but now it’s back to Dameron. Makes me feel lonely.”

“You call me Hux.”

“Yeah, but that’s only because Armitage is a mouthful.”

Hux glares daggers at him. “Careful, or I’m going to give you a mouthful.”

“Alright, Armitage.” Poe moves his jaw. “Feels weird to say.”

“Arm.” Hux turns back to the gigantic portrait of Poe on the wall. “At college… my acquaintances called me Arm.”

“Arm.” Poe lays a hand on Hux’s back and nudges him towards one of the food stands. “I could get used to that. What about Armie?”

“No. Die.”

Poe bursts into laughter. “Alright.”

Above them the Starkiller glows up. Sharp ridges crack red through its surface and split it apart. Music from speakers placed everywhere around the square swells with triumphant fanfare as the Starkiller breaks apart and bursts into billions of burning pieces, showering down in trails of gold.

Hands shoved into his pockets, breath rising from his mouth in white puffs, Hux stares at the spectacle.

“I never realized,” he whispers, “how beautiful it looked from the outside.”

Poe pulls him closer, loops both arms around him. “You haven’t told me yet what it felt like from the inside.”

“It’s-” Hux blinks.

The crowd cheers and music starts again after a moment of silence. The screens on the buildings become one continuous movie, depicting Poe and the rest of the Resistance pilots running towards their starfighters. Then they switch to Rey tearing the doors of Kylo Ren’s ship apart with the Force and bursting inside to arrest the surrendering captains of the First Order. The only one not on the ship is Kylo Ren himself.

Poe tugs at Hux and steers him towards the food stand. He orders two wraps with all of the ingredients, anxious to get a bit of food inside his date. Hux is the pickiest eater he has ever met; he rarely bothers to cook for himself, but he hates most restaurant food. No chicken, barely any other meat, no fish unless it is overcooked, vegetables only if they are fresh. The only thing he can always eat is sugar. It’s a curse.

“I thought I’d die,” Hux offers as Poe pushes a wrap into his hands.

“How’d you escape?”

“Barely, cursing like a sailor, with Kylo Ren slung over my shoulder, regretting every single life decision I’d ever made.”

When Poe bursts out laughing Hux casts him a wry glance. “Snoke had ordered me to rescue Ren, so I had no choice. I grabbed three officers to go out into that fucking snow storm, while the earthquakes were so bad we couldn’t run three steps without stumbling. Two of the officers abandoned us halfway. I screamed at them, I threatened to execute them, nothing worked. They just left, so it was me and a young cadet too scared to leave, who had to drag the unconscious Ren to our glider. You have no idea how heavy that asshole is.”

Grinning, Poe bites off a piece of dough. “Sounds like exactly your kind of adventure.”

“Don’t joke. I would have dropped him and left him to die if I didn’t know that even if I made it out alive, Snoke would murder me on the spot. I don’t even remember how we made it onto the ship. I don’t remember anything, not how the Starkiller exploded and not how we got away. The next thing I remember is kneeling in front of Snoke while he showered me in insults.”

“But hey, you made it.”

“Me, yes. We lost three hundred thousand men on that base.”

The number rings in Poe’s ears. He stares at Hux, who picks up single pieces of lettuce to eat. He knew people had to die when they exploded the Starkiller; he elected not to think about it too much. They did what they had to do. But three hundred thousand…

“I don’t- I didn’t know…”

“Really.” Hux takes a slow bite, chews, swallows, while all Poe can do is watch while his heart sinks like lead. “You must have expected losses. That’s what you do when you bomb an enemy base. You kill people.”

“Three hundred…” Poe gulps. “That’s a lot of lives.”

“Figure that,” Hux says quietly.

He tears off another chunk of wrap. For a while they both eat silently. Swallowing becomes hard for Poe with the clot that has formed in his throat. His fingers have turned numb. There was no other way. If they hadn’t destroyed the Starkiller, a lot more people would have died. Planets crushed. There was no other way, and yet…

“I thought we were done,” Hux mutters. “When we left the Starkiller behind, I thought we had lost our resources. We had pumped so much into that project. So many troopers, so much firepower, so much money. I thought we were left with broken remnants of a fleet that were only waiting to be wiped out by the Resistance.”

He licks sauce off his fingers and crumbles the wrap paper into a tight ball. “And then Snoke, he just… magicked another army out of the ground. Within six months he came around with a fleet twice as big as anything I had seen so far. He got businesses to invest in us I didn’t even know existed and yet, they pledged billions. He found ships and weapons when I thought our sources had run dry. He gave us everything we needed to fill our spotty ranks and more, and that’s when I realized…”

Hux looks up. His eyes flit around the plaza behind Poe, the huge images on the buildings. “I realized that the First Order had only been around for a couple of years, but Snoke- he had planned all of this for decades. Maybe a century. He must have started planning before the Empire rose. He had factions on his side that made their profit during the Empire, factions that made their profit with the fall of the Empire. He must have waited and bided his time. And when I realized that-”

His chest heaves with a deep breath. “For the first time I felt so small. Nothing we did mattered to him. I thought he would survive us all. His power dwarfed the Emperor and every single ruler before him. There was no way to win against him.”

In Hux’s hands, the ball of greasy paper rips into shreds and flutters away in the chilly autumns wind.

“Kylo Ren killed him, though,” Poe offers. He barely dares to speak; it is rare that Hux freely talks about his time with the First Order. Now that he does, his words fill Poe with a paralyzing dread that he only felt once so far; the moment they watched the Starkiller destroy the Hosnian System.

“Ren killed him,” Hux whispers. His lips, reddened from the cold, split into a manic grin. “Imagine that. The most powerful being in the universe and that dimwit just… cuts him down.” A chuckle breaks free. “You have to leave it to Ren, he was all impulse and raw power. Snoke, with his connections and his scheming, was indestructible. But Ren, he had no way of keeping up that net of supporters. That guy had the most unstable energy. He could not meet and negotiate prices and garner support. Now, if he had given me diplomatic powers, I might have salvaged what he ruined, but he refused to do that. Ren was an even worse control freak than Snoke. When he announced himself supreme leader, that was the moment he condemned the First Order to defeat.”

For the first time, Hux meets Poe’s eyes. “I hate to break it to you, but the Resistance did not stand a chance against the First Order. Had Snoke survived, you would have failed. It was Ren, in an ironic twist of events, that assured you the victory. When he took over, I knew it was only a manner of time before the entire First Order would break apart. It started doing so long before you captured me. We had already lost a great many of our captains and ships. If you’re wondering about the groups gone rogue in the outer regions, they broke off the First Order when Ren couldn’t hold it together anymore.”

Poe runs a hand through his hair. The feeling of coarse curls against his palm settles his restless energy a bit. “That’s not very reassuring to know.”

“No, it’s not.” Hux drops the remnants of his paper into the rubbish bin. “I thought for sure I’d die with them. I was fully willing to do that and yet, due to some cruel joke of the universe, I am here instead.” He raises his head and juts his chin at the gigantic X-Wing flight scene unfolding above their heads. “So why don’t we celebrate the destruction of that dammed thing? I for one am glad it’s gone.”

Poe watches Hux shove both hands into the pockets of his coat. He wants to protest Hux’s analysis of their victory. The Resistance did not win due to the selfish act of the man who nearly wiped them out days later. It was their effort, their belief into their cause that brought them victory. Snoke wasn’t nearly as indestructible as Hux made him out to be; Kylo Ren managed to kill him easily, after all.

He does not protest, though. Hux appears in an almost serene mood after airing out his soul; better to roll with it.

As the sky above their heads lights up and showers them in fireworks, Hux’s shoulders press into the house wall in a dark little alley unbothered by the commotion outside. Poe has grabbed one of his wrists and pinned it against the rough wall, kissing, lips and tongues locked, bodies riding up against each other, oblivious to the cold of the stone around them. Poe’s fingers dig into Hux’s waist, the skin on his back tingling as Hux scratches long, burning lines down his spine.

They kiss and the fireworks explode showers of red and gold above their heads and their breaths mingle, hot gusts in the cold wind, every inch of skin pressed into the other a hearth, a place to melt and remember how good it feels to be this close.

No matter how many times Poe gets to taste him, Hux wakes a hunger in him that he can never still. His touch electrifies, an intensity that ravages through him and spits him out shivering and more alive than he has ever felt before. Hux makes his senses hum, makes his skin tingle and his blood buzz. After that first night on their old base, Poe spent five years dreaming about what happened, repeating it in his head again and again until he had to tell himself that he was waiting for a fairy-tale, that no matter how good it had been, there was no way the real thing could live up to his fantasies. The first night of Hux’s release he spent vindicating those fantasies. If he had hoped that his obsession would die down with time, he has been disappointed so far. If anything, it has become worse.

In his arms, Hux turns warm and soft, reacting to every touch with fitting himself closer to Poe and humming satisfied little noises into his ears. His mouth wanders from Poe’s lips to his ear, tugs at his lobe and nibbles at his jaw. Poe closes his eyes. He breathes in, inhales Hux’s scent and the smell of food and alcohol from the celebration. The world around him swims and he is perfectly content with letting it.

“Hey,” he mutters into Hux’s ear, “you gonna stay over tonight?”

“Yes.”

“You wanna go home?”

Hux moves away enough to meet Poe’s eyes. “Right now? What about the movie?”

“Screw the movie. We can go tomorrow.”

Hux wrinkles his nose with a mischievous smile. “That’s three date nights in a row. You’re getting clingy.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Poe pulls away and turns to stomp towards the exit. “Let’s go to the movies.”

“Poe.” Hux’s hand grabs his, holds him back.

Poe turns around.

Hux cocks his head and offers him his most disarming smile. “Take me home.”

“What about the movie?”

“We can watch that tomorrow.”

Grinning, Poe links his fingers with Hux’s and drags him out of the alley towards the garage with his car.


	20. 20

The floor thunders as the twins jump through the living room, casting a stuffed sheep to one another two feet above their small heads.

“So yeah, they’ve learned levitation,” Finn says, all proud daddy.

“Get it, Uncle Poe!” Lyra screeches, the lighter one of the twins, with the same brown hair as Rey done in a ponytail.

“Not with your hands!” Maya cries, the smaller one with the same beautiful brown tone as Finn, frizzy curls held up on both sides of her head in round knots. “Use the Force!”

Poe catches the sheep with his hands and throws it back into the air. “Sorry, kiddos. No Force for old Uncle Poe.”

“That’s enough,” Finn says when the girls crash into the TV table and nearly topple it over. “Come on, let’s get the two of you to bed.”

Screeches of protest follow Finn down the hallways into the twins’ bedroom. Poe sinks back onto the couch. Next to him the seat dents as Rey sits down and hands him a glass of wine.

“The girls have been crying for you for two weeks now,” she says.

“Yeah, sorry I couldn’t come earlier. The last mission took longer than we thought.”

Rey nods with the noncommittal kind of smile that tells Poe that her thoughts have already jumped to the next topic.

“So, how are you doing, Poe?”

Is that a whiff of pity he detects in the air? “Great, actually. Amazing. Has Finn told you about the mission? We managed to free a whole squad of stormtroopers that some lunatic captain had been using for her only little rogue band for years. Huge success.”

“That’s great. Hey, has Finn told you about our newest member yet?”

“A new Jedi?”

Rey shakes her head. “He’s staff, not Force sensitive. But he is great, actually, such a nice person, really pleasant. Handsome, too, and funny. You wouldn’t believe how much he eases the tension of a room just by being in it.”

 _Oh, so this is what we’re doing today_. “Let me guess.” Poe downs the wine. “He’s gay.”

“How’d you guess?” She snatches up her smart pad from the table. “Do you want to see a picture?”

Poe sighs. “Rey, I- oh, by the stars.”

Handsome he certainly is. Young, tall, perfect smile that is sort of confident, but in a humble, endearing sort of way. Perfectly trimmed beard on ebony skin, dreads reaching down to his shoulders. It almost hurts to say no.

“He’s- how do you even know he’d be interested?”

“Oh, we’ve been chatting. He’s been looking for something long-term, but hasn’t found anyone so far. Did you know, he puts in a lot of volunteer hours and he’s been helping the kids that have come in, he’s got this kind of nice and calming aura, it’s amazing. He also really loves racing, though he doesn’t race himself. Do you want his number?”

Poe squeezes his eyes shut. Painful. This is painful. “Rey, I’m- sort of seeing somebody.”

For a moment, neither of them speaks a word.

“Oh, you are?” Rey then pipes up. “That’s- that’s great!” Her voice drips fake cheerfulness.

“Yeah.”

“You should’ve told us. What’s his name?”

“I haven’t told you because…” Poe shakes his head. “It’s been kind of new and we’re still not sure where this is leading. I don’t want to jinx it.”

“I see.” She lays the pad on the table. “How long have you been seeing each other?”

“Umm.” He gnaws at his bottom lip while he calculates the weeks back in his mind. “About four months?”

“Four months, that’s not too shabby!”

“For me, you mean.”

“I didn’t say that. So things are going well?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, we’re still figuring things out.”

“Yeah.” She taps her finger on her screen. “I mean, you’ve been having trouble working things out. Just in case this doesn’t, are you sure you don’t want his number as back-up?”

Poe shakes his head. “That wouldn’t be fair to him.”

“All right.” She pulls back her hand from her smart pad. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Because it’s Hux. And because this is madness. Here he is, the perfect man, looking and sounding as dreamy as they come, and Poe is willing to flat out decline him. For what? Granted, his thing with Hux has lasted longer than he ever expected it to last. He has been waiting for the magic to subside, for his obsession to end and his good reason to return so he can end things with Hux. No matter how he looks at it, there is no way he and Hux are meant to last. One day they will realize how different they are and how stupid they were ever getting involved with each other and they will part and never look back. Poe Dameron, saviour of the Galaxy, is not meant to end up with the villain who nearly destroyed it, no matter how hot the sex.

“Actually…” And if that is going to happen, what’s the harm in having a back-up, especially if he is handsome and kind and a good friend of Finn and Rey’s?

Rey’s eyes spark up. “Yes?”

“I mean, I could-” Poe gropes for his smart pad. A message lights up on the screen, from Hux. Speak of the devil.

_I’m heading home, but I’ve put soufflé in your fridge. You should eat it tonight._

_We still on for the concert tomorrow?_

Completely unbidden and uninvited a warmth blossoms in his chest and makes him smile. He looks up at Rey, who still eyes him expectantly.

“Nevermind.”

Resigned, she falls back into the couch. “At least tell me that boyfriend of yours is worth it. I mean, he must be just about the greatest guy in the Galaxy to make Poe Dameron fall head over heels for him.”

“Erm, something like that.”

The screaming in the bedroom down the floor has stopped. Finn emerges, grabs the wine Rey has set on the table for him and downs it. “If they learn mind control we are really screwed.

“Poe’s got a boyfriend,” Rey snitches.

“For real?”

“Kinda,” Poe says.

“A proper boyfriend or someone you’ve dated more than one night in a row?”

“Four months,” Rey says with a certain weight in her voice. “It’s getting serious.”

Finn shakes his head. “Is there a hero we haven’t heard of yet? You found a guy great enough to hold a candle to you.”

“Something like that.”

“He won’t tell me anything,” Rey says conspiratorially. “Maybe it’s someone famous.”

“Please don’t start guessing,” Poe pleads. “Is there dessert?”

Finn winks at Rey. “You can’t pressure him like that. You know how shy he gets whenever he has a new bae. Give him time.”

Never. They will never understand. Poe watches Finn fetch the chocolate pies from the kitchen that he brought as gifts, throat dry from the image of Finn and Rey discovering the real object of his affection. Only a couple more weeks. If by then his infatuation hasn’t subsided he will end things anyway and ask Rey for the number of the cute assistant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Poe...


	21. 21

The sun stands deep on the horizon, filling the air with sweltering heat, as Poe opens his front door. The apartment is quiet and dark. He puts away his cap and steps into the living room slash kitchen. On the couch, illuminated by only a soft reading light, lies Hux, reading pad on his chest, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey, Arm. Didn’t know you were coming by tonight.”

No answer. Poe sets aside his bag and pulls his shirt from his belt. A hint of a breeze stirs up the sweat on his hips.

“Have you eaten already?” he asks and sits down at the edge of the couch.

Hux blinks. While Poe strokes single hairs from his face, he returns to reality.

“You’re home.” His voice grates against his throat.

Poe leans down and presses a kiss against his temple. “Whatcha reading?”

For half a minute Hux merely lies there, without registering the question. Then he flinches and raises the reading pad to look at his book.

“It’s a novel. Um, something dystopian.”

“I thought you don’t like novels.”

“Everybody has been talking about this one so I thought I’d check it out.”

Poe smiles down at him. His boyfriend still looks far, far away. “Dystopian, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s about- about a planet that’s never managed interplanetary space flight. People are trapped on their home planet for all eternity.”

“That’s not necessarily bad,” Poe muses. He stands up and walks into the kitchen. There is a box of fried rice from yesterday in the fridge. He throws it into a pan and cuts some garlic and hot peppers to add fresh. “Do you want something?”

“I’m not hungry.” Hux rubs his eyes. “The scary part is where they still achieve pretty far technological advancement, but they don’t use the obvious resources for electricity. They have a sun right there, but they choose to burn fuels they find in their earth crust instead and it ruins their climate.”

Poe snorts. “Why not use the sun?”

“Money. And the thing is, even when they realize that they are killing themselves and that better alternatives exist, they don’t manage to turn around. All because those with money don’t want to give it up.”

“That’s rather poignant.” Poe fills the rice onto his plate and returns to the living room. “How does it end?”

“I don’t know yet, but I assume they destroy themselves.” Hux slowly sits up to make room for Poe.

Poe snorts. “You know, I could see it happening.”

They watch the news while Poe eats. Hux sits next to him, silently, refusing any of the food Poe offers him. He barely looks at the screen; instead, his eyes turn empty every couple of minutes, before he flinches and pulls himself back to the here and now. Nervousness rising, Poe watches him. Experience has taught him that asking when Hux is in one of his funky moods does not get him anywhere. Either Hux will tell him what is going on or he’ll be left to guess.

He tries to motivate Hux to a racing game after the news, but Hux shakes his head, slumped back into the couch unwilling to move. When the intro for a second-rate crime show starts, Poe wraps his arms around his boyfriend and nestles his head against his neck. They stay like this until the first commercial break, when Hux gently frees himself from the hold and stands up.

“I’m tired, I’m going to bed.”

“Okay,” Poe says, watching Hux sort his limbs. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Hux shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

Poe hugs one of the couch cushions instead. When he creeps into bed two hours later, Hux seems fast asleep already. Without turning on the light Poe snuggles up to him and closes his eyes.

He awakes a few hours later, in the middle of the night. Disoriented he blinks into the wan light from the fast lane lanterns in the distance, unsure what is happening. Slowly his senses return and he becomes aware of the figure sitting next to him, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his knees, face pressed into his thighs, whispering to himself.

Poe sits up and lays a hand on Hux’s shoulder, trembling ever so slightly. He leans closer to listen to Hux muttering something clearly not meant for his ears.

“I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up…”

“Arm,” he mumbles, worry chasing the sluggishness of sleep from his brain. “Arm, what’s going on?”

Hux does not react.

“I fucked up…” His breath hitches, hisses out in a raw sob that nearly breaks Poe’s heart. “I fucked up, I fucked up…”

Biting his lip, Poe sits next to him and watches him sway forward and back, muttering his mantra into his own arms. Hux does not even acknowledge his presence.

Finally, he leans against his boyfriend and wraps both arms around him. “Arm, whatever it is, we can fix it, all right? I’m here.”

No answer. Poe closes his eyes and contents himself with letting Hux’s mantra trickle through the room, a steady stream of half-sobs and broken sniffles. It takes over an hour for him to calm down enough to sag against Poe and fall asleep.

“The man himself,” An Numa greets Poe the next afternoon and waves him into his little office next to the building site. “What can I do for you today?”

“Thanks,” Poe says and closes the door behind them. He steps up to the window and searches for his boyfriend, wading through mud outside, a stack of wooden boards on his shoulder. Shit, this is going to keep him turned on for days. “I wanted to ask if anything happened with Arm yesterday. Did he… get into an argument or something?”

An Numa scratches his stubbly chin. “Not that I know of, why? Has he complained about something?”

Poe shakes his head and watches Hux outside enter one of the half-finished houses with the wood. “It’s just, he seemed disturbed about something. I thought you’d maybe noticed something.”

“Hm.”

Poe turns around. An Numa is a large man, dressed in orange overall and rubber boots. He keeps his hair shaved short underneath the safety helmet.

“He helped out again, didn’t he?” Poe asks. “After hours, in the finance department.”

“Yeah. He had a visitor yesterday, from one of the labour camps. She’s been coming by a few times, but this time it seemed urgent. They talked in the office over there.” He points at one of the doors down the corridor, where the on-site staff offer advice to clients. “Kept the door open a bit so I may have overheard a thing or two…”

“Tell me.”

An Numa shrugs. “She told him she had to withdraw from buying the apartment. Apparently the bar she opened didn’t go too well and kept swallowing money. She needed everything to repay the loan we gave her.”

Poe tenses. “What did Arm do?”

“Oh, they talked for a while. She told him how she had worked in the labour camp and how her husband had died working on the Starkiller. She talked a lot about her children, they are going to school. Oh, and she has some serious damage to her hand from the labour, so she’s been having problems running the bar.”

Poe nods. “So far, it’s your usual First Order victim story.”

“I’ll say. Arm talked her through her expenses, gave her pointers, stuff like that. And then he…” An Numa crosses his arms. “I might have gotten that part wrong, but I think he gave her some money he’d saved. You know, from his wages, that guy never buys anything.”

Poe forces a thin-lipped smile. “You tell me.” He turns back to the window, where Hux is coming out of the house with another worker. “Can we forgive her loan?”

“Sure,” An Numa says behind him. “If that’s what you want to do.”

“Let’s do it, then.” He takes a deep breath. “We started this to help people. Doesn’t really work if they have to suffer.”

“I’ll get the paperwork done. What about Arm? Do you want to talk to him about it?”

Outside, Hux is smiling about something the other guy said. It’s a thin smile, but then it broadens and he laughs. Stars, he is handsome.

“No, nevermind. He’s back to normal. He’s never going to mention it again and that’s fine. Like every other time before this one.”

An Numa steps up to Poe and peers outside.

“Hey,” Poe says. “Let’s get him off the site, shall we? I think it’s time we put him into finances full time.”

“That means a hefty pay rise,” An Numa says.

“Yeah.” Poe ruffles a hand through his curls. “I leave it to you. You can put him in whatever department you think best, pay him whatever makes sense. Just don’t promote him above yourself.”

An Numa’s hand slams down onto Poe’s shoulder and squeezes all air from his lungs. “You got it, boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very pissed about my supervisor right now, because he promised to write me a letter of recommendation for a scholarship i applied to and even though i reminded him FIVE TIMES he forgot. And then, when i asked him about it, he didn't answer for weeks, so eventually I had to go nark to our other professor and now he's finally replied, but he's like "oops, haha, i hope it didn't not work out because of me" well guess what, it was you. And now I'm trying to come up with a way to tell him off for being a doodoohead without actually using the word doodoohead.   
> Anyway, i'm taking revenge by writing (and I'm aware that the only person I'm hurting here is me) gingerpilot porn instead of my thesis. It won't feature in this fic, but it will come, so stay tuned.


	22. 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far my favourite chapter, so I hope you guys'll like it too. Ultimate domestic fluff! Have fun!

The last red rays of the sun light up Poe’s office when Finn enters. His robes, light brown and beige, suit him almost too well. He pulls the hood off his head and sits down, lightsaber next to him. The strain of the past years, the constant travelling around and the struggle to keep the balance in a galaxy filled with anger and pain, have left their traces around his eyes and his mouth, but now he smiles at Poe.

“Honestly though,” he says as Poe’s assistant serves them tea. “Why did it have to be Jakku?”

“Just go there and tell me what you think,” Poe responds. “With the new workers the town has transformed, you won’t recognize it. Jakku is a treasure trove of old tech and somebody has to salvage it.”

Finn shakes his head slowly. “Rey and I didn’t rescue those guys to strand them on Jakku. At least let’s bring them to Naboo.”

Poe drinks his tea without answering. The rescue mission almost went southward, had it not been for Rey’s quick reaction to the cannons of the enemy ship. She remotely jammed their plasma influx and left the ship defenceless using nothing but the Force. Even Poe has to admit that watching Rey growing into her Jedi powers is a sight to behold.

The fighters they found used to belong to the First Order. Somehow their captains got away during the clean-up and holed themselves up in the Unknown Regions. Recently, they have turned more daring, joining scavenging bands around the remote planets where the Federate Fleet does not go. Like the stormtroopers they freed after the war, those fighters rarely chose the life they lead. Unlike the stormtroopers, however, they have lived long years under changing leadership, no direction, and a constant threat to their survival with minimal resources. Few yearn to return to that life, but all struggle to adapt to a more stable life style.

“Do you need more support?” Poe asks. There is no point in trying to convince Finn that Jakku is more than a junk yard. Mostly because Finn is right. “I can give you a couple of bodyguards.”

Finn shakes his head. “I don’t need protection. Where’d you get bodyguards, anyway? I thought you didn’t want to start your own army.”

“It’s not an army, it’s just a couple of guys from Leia’s army who volunteer their time.”

“You’ll find something better for them to do, I’m sure.”

Armies are expensive, Poe knows only too well from his time with the Resistance. Leia keeps complaining to him; even though she receives funds from Naboo, they barely suffice to keep her fleet afloat. Instead of investing in his own starfighters and weapons, Poe borrows from her. Several planetary governments and over two dozen companies have pledged financial assistance to his work, but while it means he can pay his employees well, it would never suffice to fund an actual army.

“I’ll let the Jakku division know you’re coming, then.” Poe taps his screen and it lights up. The last report by An Numa on the housing project still fills his screen.

“Hey, is that Hux’s name I read?” Finn leans forward.

“Yeah.” Poe closes the document. “An Numa sends me evaluations each week, you know, as part of the whole parole thing.”

“Honestly, I would’ve thought he’d be gone by now.” Finn grins at Poe. “Taken the chance to run and join those guys in the Unknown Regions.”

Lead sinks into Poe’s chest and wraps around his throat. “What makes you say that?”

“Come on, it’s Hux. He hates you. And me. And everyone. And doing good and playing by the rules…” Finn ticks the points off his fingers. “You can’t seriously expect him to play good guy for long.”

If Finn were using his Jedi powers he would hear Poe’s heart racing and he’d know something is up. “He’s done good work so far. He does what he is ordered to do, he plays nice with the staff, and ever since we’ve bumped him up to finances things have been running a lot more smoothly.”

Finn wrinkles his nose. “Then it’s an act. He’s trying to deceive you for something, you just have to find out for what.”

“Why do you have to be like that? You work with stormtroopers all the time. It’s our business to make people better, but suddenly you don’t believe in that anymore?”

Finn’s eyes grow wide at Poe’s swell of anger. “Of course I do, but it’s Hux. Like, there is saveable and then there’s Hux. Be careful before you trust him with anything, is all I’m saying.”

“He’s worked for me for almost a year now,” Poe says curtly, “and he’s never given me reason to mistrust him.”

“Poe, why are you so angry? You hated that guy, remember? Have you forgotten what he’s done, he’s almost killed us. He tortured you. You can try and be nice to him, but that doesn’t change what he’s done.”

Cold seeps through his blood. “So you’re saying you couldn’t forgive him.”

“I don’t want to forgive him. Why should I?”

Poe closes his eyes. For the dozenth time today he was so close to telling Finn the truth. For the dozenth time he has to face the fact that Finn would never understand. And he is right. The whole thing makes no sense, not even to Poe himself. It’s an affair bound to fail, staying alive on the flicker of some nonsensical attraction Poe himself can’t control, and the deception of domesticity.

That night, when he opens the door to his apartment, the smell of spices and stirred onions greets him. He takes off his shoes and steps into the kitchen, where his evil boyfriend is standing between a frying pan, two pots, and several heaps of vegetables, cutting away at a purple cucumber found only on a jungle planet in the Expansion.

“You’re home already,” Poe says. “I didn’t expect you for another hour at least.”

“An Numa sent me home,” Hux responds without looking up from his work. “He muttered something about the union busting his ass on overtime and forced me out.”

Poe snorts.

“It’s ridiculous, I’ve barely put in forty hours this week.”

“Arm, it’s Wednesday.”

“So?”

Poe wraps both arms around his boyfriend and lays a cheek against his shoulder. “You’re a workaholic.”

“Nonsense. I simply like having things to do.”

“If you keep at it we can soon fire everyone else.”

“Easier on your pockets.”

“How convenient. Now I only have to convince you to keep working for cuddles and kisses…”

“Try that and see where it lands you,” Hux says without heat and sweeps the cucumber into the pot bubbling with a thick broth.

“Mmh. This smells amazing.” Poe steals a morsel of a meaty green-and-yellow leaf from a heap and plops it into his mouth. “Where’d you get all this stuff?”

“Well, since I had nothing else to do I stopped by the Abyssian market and just wandered around for a while and bought things I liked. Here, try this.” Hux peels a dark brown kernel from a bright red bushel and feeds it to Poe. “You rarely find these nuts anywhere.”

“Holy stars.” Poe chews, eyes closed in bliss. “They taste amazing.”

“Right?” Hux picks up a whole handful of the kernels and peels them onto the chopping board while Poe steals himself a morsel of orange, tangy root. “Did you talk to your stormtrooper?”

Poe rests his face back onto Hux’s back. Warmth wraps around him, accompanied by the familiar scent of Hux’s cologne. He smiles. “You know you can just call him Finn, right? It’s his official name and all.”

“Never.” An amused timbre tints Hux’s voice. His shoulders work as he chops the nuts. “Should I ever meet him again, I will call him FN 2187, as is right. Or traitor. That works, too.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Poe wraps his arms tighter around him.

“Stop squeezing me, you dork! I’m holding a knife.”

Laughing silently, Poe eases his hug, but stays close. When Hux turns to the pots to stir, Poe takes a deep breath. “I almost told him.”

“Told him what?”

“About you. And me. I didn’t, though.” In the silence that follows, a hint of bitterness rises up in Poe’s throat again, threatening the tranquillity of the moment. “Sorry.”

“You know it doesn’t bother me. They are your friends, not mine. Whatever their opinion of me is of no interest to me.”

Poe shakes his head. “It’s not right. I want them to know and to get over it, right now.”

“But what will you do if they force you to make a choice? Me or them.”

“That would be horrible.” Poe takes Hux by the shoulders and stares into his face. “Arm, that’s a horrible thought, why would they do that? They’re my friends, they should want me to be happy.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He holds Hux’s eyes. “I’m happy.”

For a heartbeat they look at each other, Poe glaring rebelliously, Hux returning the glare with a twitch in the corner of his mouth. Then Hux returns to the nuts. He swipes them into the frying pan, adds some salt, and adjusts the heat.

“Aren’t you happy?” Poe asks, throwing caution into the wind. He has been dreading the answer to that question for months.

“I’m-” Hux takes a deep breath. When he turns to the sink to wash the knife, Poe stands behind him, one hand on his back. “It’s not that easy.”

He turns on the cold water, takes the sponge, and starts scrubbing. Foam bubbles up between his pale fingers, roughened by almost a year of working in construction. “I’ve never had to think about my own happiness before and I don’t know if I want to do it now.”

Poe steps closer. He brushes a strand of fine hair away from Hux’s neck.

“It shouldn’t be so hard.” Hux puts the sponge aside. Clear water flushes away the foam. “But every time I feel I could relax, something in me tenses. It’s like there are threats everywhere, I just can’t see them. So instead, I…”

He raises the knife from the sink and wipes it dry. The steel gleams in the kitchen light. “I feel like I’m walking an edge. If I relax even for a moment, I’ll fall down and tear everything down with me.” The knife clatters onto the drying board. “It’s like-” He pulls back his hand and knocks over one of the wine glasses from last night. It rolls towards the edge. “Like any moment everything around me is going to shatter into pieces.”

Poe snatches up the glass the moment it drops. He wipes it with a towel and puts it into the cupboard. Then he takes Hux’s trembling hands into his own and squeezes them. “Of course you feel like that. You’re traumatized.”

“What the blazes are you talking about?”

“You’ve been traumatized. It keeps you on edge, that’s completely normal. Don’t look at me like that, why are you looking like that?”

Hux has paled. Red spots appear on his cheeks. “I’m not traumatized. What the hell would I be traumatized from?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Abuse from your dad. Abuse from Snoke. Constantly being attacked and hurt, being forced to witness atrocities all over the Galaxy, being forced onto a planet that exploded from under you, nearly dying all the time, getting captured. Prison.”

Hux shakes his head so vehemently, his hair whips into his face. His fingers in Poe’s grip flex. “I’m the one who committed those atrocities. I cause trauma, I don’t suffer it.”

“Those two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know. You’ve been pushing it down inside you so far, because you cannot even consider the idea that you didn’t come out of those experiences a sound and healthy person.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not traumatized. My enemies are.”

“I’m sure they are.” Poe eases his grip around Hux’s fingers and lays a hand on his cheek. Hux flinches as though struck. “The past couple of months have tread a lot of things loose for you, now that you’re safe and able to take new stock of your life. And you’ve done some great steps on one side of the matter, working to redeem the pain you’ve caused-”

“Don’t say that.” Hux’s voice grates like iron on stone.

“Sorry, not redeem.” He knows Hux is not ready to hear that. “But you’ve accepted the part of you that’s caused harm to others. The other side, however, the one that was hurt… you’ve been neglecting that, I suspect since always.”

“Because it doesn’t exist. I’m not a helpless little soul that needs his hand held because he got knocked over a couple of times.”

“Arm, anyone in your situation would be a little damaged. Listen and don’t say no at once, my therapist has given me the number of a colleague of hers-”

“No.”

“Listen to me.”

Hux yanks his hands free and steps back. He turns to the pots, fires up the smaller one, stirs the bigger one. Turns off the stove plate with the frying pan and takes a bowl with dough from the fridge. “I am not going to therapy. How is that supposed to go, anyway, they’ll take one look at me and decide I belong back in prison. If they start thinking that I’m emotionally unstable-”

“Arm, listen to me. That colleague, she specializes in cases like yours.”

“Cases like mine, there are no cases like mine.”

“You know, cases of people who think they don’t deserve healing because of what they’ve done.”

Hux sneers. “Is that what you think is going on with me?”

“I do, yes.”

Wordlessly, Hux kneads the stirred nuts and herbs into the dough, then rolls it in small circles onto the slate. He takes the pot with the blubbering vegetables from the stove and spoons sauce and vegetables onto the rolled dough.

“Arm, she’d be bound to confidentiality. No one is going to take you away because you decide to get help.”

“What if I don’t want help?” Hux asks quietly. He closes the dough balls back up and places them onto an oven tray, then dabs them with molten and spiced butter from the second pot.

“Please, just think about it.” Poe pulls a business card from his trouser pocket and waves it in front of Hux’s face.

“What’s it to you, anyway? I’m not your little pet project, you know.”

“Yeah, you kinda are. Remember, that was the warden’s condition for your release. That you started working for me and I’d turn you into a good man.” Poe slips the business card into Hux’s pocket, then wraps both hands around him again and squeezes. “But this is not about that. This is about me seeing my boyfriend suffering and wanting him to get better. I want my boyfriend to be happy.”

“Me.”

“Yes, you, you dolt. I want you to be happy.”

Hux stares down at the kitchen slate, sprinkled with red sauce and flour. “Tell me I deserve to be happy.”

“You deserve to be happy.” Poe quirks an eyebrow as he meets Hux’s eyes over his shoulder.

With a groan, Hux hangs his head.

Laughing, Poe squeezes him tightly. “Didn’t expect that, did you?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Are you going to think about it?”

“Fine.” Hux turns on the oven and turns around, melts a bit into Poe’s hug so he fits against his body. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Poe raises his chin and collects his overdue welcome home kiss. “You cooked.”

“Mhm. It’s gonna take another thirty minutes, though.”

“You’re amazing. You’ve cooked for us.”

“Don’t turn it into a big deal.”

Laughing, Poe snatches Hux’s neck and pulls him down for a longer kiss. Then another one. The sweetness of berries and bell peppers stains his tongue and stirs his appetite.


	23. 23

A talk show host introduces the most shabby looking hutt Poe has ever seen and almost makes him raise his head from Hux’s lap.

“Blazes, that’s ugly.” He stretches his legs and yawns.

Hux, one hand on Poe’s head, coiling and uncoiling one of his curls, hums in agreement. They are sitting in sweatpants and old T-shirts, smart pads face down on the coffee table, lounging on the couch to enjoy a rare, quiet evening of free time. Hux’s lap is soft and smells familiar and his fingers tickling his head run warm tingles down his neck. Poe could fall asleep like this.

On TV, the topic turns to the housing shortage in the Coruscant central districts. Poe closes his eyes.

“By the by,” Hux mentions casually, “my landlord called me to tell me my lease is up. I have till the end of the month to decide if I want to renew.”

“Lease,” Poe repeats without opening his eyes. “To your apartment? You’re still renting that place?”

“Of course I am.”

“That place is a dump.”

“And I am a poor man. It’s cheap and close to work.”

“Hmm.” Poe nestles his head deeper into his boyfriend’s lap. “It’s still a dump.”

Hux chuckles. “I know it is. But I can’t afford anything much more luxurious.”

Poe’s eyes snap open. It dawns on him what kind of conversation they are having right now.

_He wants to move in with me._

His fingers start buzzing as his heart jumps into his throat.

“I mean.” He coughs to clear his throat. “You’re over here all the time, anyway. You got drawers full of clothes.”

“Well, that’s just convenient for when I stay over.”

“Which is practically all the time. It’s your hair that clogs the shower drain.”

“You’ll have to prove that.” Hux’s voice has lost none of its smoothness.

Poe grins into his lap. “I don’t have to, it’s ginger. Only one ginger in here.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Arm.” He pushes himself up to Hux’s eye level. “Do you want to move in with me?”

Hux meets his eyes. Not a muscle moves in his face. For a minute, he quietly studies Poe’s face, while his fingers, which have slid down to his neck, stroke across the shaved stubble of Poe’s hairline.

“Never thought I’d ever have to ponder that question from you,” he finally says.

“It makes sense, though. The apartment is big enough for both of us. You love the kitchen and I’d love to have you here.”

“I can’t pay half the rent, though. I don’t have that kind of funds.”

Poe shakes his head with a smile. “Good thing it’s mine, anyway. I’ve bought it; I don’t pay rent.”

Hux purses his lips. “And I do have stuff. It’s not much, but you’ll have to accommodate that.”

His heart begins to dance in his chest. “I can clear out the second study for you, it’s just storage, anyway. You can have the room for yourself, do with it whatever you want.”

“Really.”

Poe widens his grin until it becomes impossibly big. He leans his forehead against Hux’s and closes his eyes. “Easy.”

“All right, I’ll think about it.” Hux strokes his fingers along Poe’s jaw, dips up his chin, and fits his mouth to Poe’s.

Poe breathes into the kiss, marvelling at how happy a single decision could make him. “Mine now,” he whispers against Hux’s lips before he kisses him again.

Hux shakes his head, but he smiles and pulls him closer. “All yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is my 10th anniversary with the waifu, which means that the warranty has expired. If I break from now on, he'll have to buy a new model instead of sending me in for repairs. Anyway.


	24. 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux's perspective. Yaaay!

Crying clients are the worst. Clients crying because they invested in an obvious pyramid scheme and are now twenty million credits in debt are a new level of hell. As soon as he is rid of the couple, Hux bolts from his desk, pulls a coffee from the dispenser, and climbs up the stairs onto the roof of their office tower. His nerves only stop screeching when the crisp autumn wind hits his face.

He takes a big gulp of coffee before he turns his head to find he is not alone. A young woman, no, a girl, has jumped up at his sight. She backs away from the benches in the middle of the roof towards the wall, eyes wide, cigarette burning between her fingers.

Sixteen, maybe seventeen. Long, black hair reaching almost down to her waist. Light brown skin, smooth features, wide nose. Her eyes do not leave his as he steps up to the benches.

Just his luck that now of all times the roof has to be occupied. He considers returning back to his office, but something about the girl’s movements catches his attention. Even for someone he caught smoking, she is too scared.

Hux exhales slowly. “I am not going to tell on you.”

Her eyes travel from his face to her cigarette burning to ashes between her fingers, then back to his face. “You’re General Hux.”

Well, shit.

“I am.”

Trembling, her hand sinks and lets go of the cigarette. It drops to the ground, splattering little red embers across the stone.

Hux slowly sets his coffee onto a bench, then sits down. He feels like he is trying to keep a bird from fluttering away. “I am not going to hurt you.”

“You’re General Hux,” she repeats.

How did she recognize him anyway? Most people nowadays don’t connect him to the First Order general unless he explicitly states his history. She is too young to have been part of his team, way too young. Maybe she read it somewhere, except there is something in the way she moves… a stiffness of her spine, the careful way in which she watches him…

“You were with the stormtrooper training unit.”

She nods, black hair falling into her face.

“But why are you here now? The war ended over six years ago, were you-”

“Out there,” she whispers. One foot after the other she steps towards him. “I was out there.”

Realization dawns. “The Unknown Regions. You were part of the last group that went rogue.” He dimly remembers Poe mentioning young ex-stormtroopers in the group. “They abducted you at the fall of the First Order.”

She nods again.

Hux lifts his coffee. This is bad. He has visited training facilities, hundreds of them. A child might remember him, but for her to do so now, here, of all places…

“How old are you?”

She cocks her head. “I don’t know. Sixteen? I think.”

“Did they make you fight?”

“All the time.” Gingerly, she sits down at the edge of the bench farthest away from him. “But I liked the First Order better.”

Hux, who has taken a sip from his coffee, nearly spits it out again. Coughing, he sets down the can. “You do what?”

“More orderly. Stronger. With them I knew we were going to win. With the rogues I knew we were going to lose. They were weak.”

Breathing deeply, he wipes his mouth. “We didn’t win, though.”

“I thought we would.”

Shit, what is this? Is this child really telling him she would have liked the First Order to win?

 _That’s what you brainwashed her to think_ , an evil little voice inside him tells him. He shuts it down. Recently it has become louder, more daring.

“What are you doing here?” Hux asks. “I thought the group was going to Jakku.”

“Not me. They want me to go to school here.”

“Well, that’s sensible.”

“I don’t want to go to school.” She is still staring at him.

“Why not? Might teach you something.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Drinking coffee.” Hux raises his can. When she keeps staring at him, he suppresses a sigh. “Working.”

“Working.”

“Yes. My boyfriend… he’d call it redemption, but I don’t like that word. Guess it’s not wrong, though.”

“Redemption. You’re trying to find redemption?”

“Not really.” It’s not like Poe would ever admit it to anyone, anyway. For all the pride in Hux he displays he is still deeply ashamed of his boyfriend.

“I guess I should try that too.”

“I don’t think you’d need redemption.”

“I killed a man.”

Hux shrugs. “So? I killed a lot of men.”

“I liked it.”

Damn. “Okay, maybe you need a little redemption.”

She brushes hair from her face. “He boarded our ship and threatened to make soup out of my bones. I crushed his nose into his brain. I liked the crunchy noise it made.”

“Well, I’d call that self-defence. Not something to trouble yourself over.”

“First I kicked him in the nuts. When he went down I kicked his ribs in. Then I stomped on his spine. Then I killed him.”

Something almost as sweet as pride rises in him. “Not bad. You seem to have acclimatised to the rogue band rather well.”

“I like fighting,” she simply says.

“Well, there’s nothing keeping you from joining the navy once you finish school.”

She snorts. “I don’t want to fight for the toothless republic. I want to fight out there, where it’s dirty. Why don’t you fight anymore?”

“I can’t. I’m not allowed to carry a weapon or to become part of any official or private force.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a war criminal.”

“Says who?”

“The winners, who else?”

She shakes her head. “That’s so unfair. They killed our people, too. I watched it happen, before our leader defected and forced us to come along.”

Hux sighs. “Be grateful you never saw the Starkiller.”

“What do I do now?”

Hux pulls a small bag with nut pies from his jacket. “You go to school. Probably get yourself a good therapist. Forget the war out there. Don’t tell people that you violently slaughtered a man, because they won’t like that.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Here, I’ll give you a nut pie if you go down there and don’t murder any more people.”

She takes the pie and frowns at it. “Who made these?”

“My boyfriend. They’re better than they look.”

“You shouldn’t have a boyfriend.”

“Why? Because you don’t like gay people?”

“Because it’s going to distract you when they call you back. You can’t afford any romantic attachments.”

“No one is going to call me back, kiddo.”

“You don’t know that,” she whispers and something in her tone makes Hux shiver.

There have been whispers, among the people he used to know, old informants and spies, people that withdrew when the tides turned and that officially he hasn’t spoken to for over six years. Whispers about some of the rogue bands forming together. About leaders emerging, new money being pumped into new groups. He has turned a deaf ear to those whispers in case they are trying to lure him in, but maybe they don’t target him. Maybe they target those most vulnerable.

“Here.” He pulls out his smart pad. “I’ll give you my contact. If anyone tries to tell you there is a new fight they need you for, you call me, got it?”

Her eyes go wide. “Can I really call you?”

“Erm, sure. Just don’t give it to anyone else, understood?”

She nods, hair flying, as she activates her transmission pass. A little smile steals on her lips and makes her look almost as innocent as someone her age is supposed to be. “Thank you, General Hux.”

 _I think I just got myself a stalker. A stalker who once viciously killed a man for threatening her_.

Hux stands up and tosses his empty coffee can into the rubbish bin next to the door. “Also, don’t call me that. Not a general anymore.”

She presses her lips together.

“What’s your name?”

“MN 5401.”

“That’s not a name. Did they never give you a name?”

“Not really. Some of the guys called me Mana.”

“Is that what you want to call yourself?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I don’t know how people choose a name.”

“However you want.” Hux opens the door to the stairwell. “It’s not all bad in this republic, after all.”


	25. 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just fyi, those are real guns the're using. The waifu started reading this and for some reason assumed they were playing paintball...? And then got shocked when there was blood and bad guys dying, so since this is Star Wars: no painball, despite the cute pew-pew sounds.

“Ah, the boyfriend,” An Numa says as Poe enters the building, huddled in a thick coat with fur hood. Even though it should still be autumn, snow crests his hair. “Come to abduct out hardest working employee?”

“You know I have.” Poe pulls his gloves off his fingers. “Is he in his office?”

An Numa nods. “Go right through.”

Hux looks up when Poe enters. “Surprise inspection?”

“I’m here to abduct you.”

“You are,” Hux states flatly. He leans back from his three screens and crosses his arms behind his head. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Arm, it’s the second anniversary of your release from prison. Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”

“I don’t remember.”

Poe clasps a hand to his chest and stumbles back. “You’re colder than the wind outside!”

“So?” Hux shuts off his screens and stands up. “What’s going to happen to me today?”

Poe grins. “I have a surprise for you. Put on your jacket, we’re leaving Coruscant.”

Hux quirks an eyebrow at him, but he throws on his leather coat and tucks a black scarf around his neck. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Poe shakes his head, grabs his hand, and drags him out of the office. “That’s part of the surprise.”

He plants Hux into his interstellar racer and starts the engine. “You’re going to have so much fun tonight.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens.” At a series of beeps behind him, Hux turns around. “You brought BB-8. Why did you bring your droid to an anniversary date?”

“You’ll see.” Poe winks at BB-8, who bleeps in response.

Hux stares out the window as the racer shoots out into space. “We have too many anniversaries. You can’t honestly expect me to remember every single one of them.”

“How is that a bad thing? We have lots of things to celebrate, that’s good!”

“Five months ago you celebrated me getting captured by the Resistance. Two months ago it was the first time we had sex. Right the next day it was me going to prison. In a couple of weeks it’s going to be our first date and then it’s Starkiller Day again…”

“Yeah.” Poe grins and licks his lips. “Perfect. We have the whole year scheduled.”

“There should be one anniversary and one only. That’s enough.”

Poe laughs, a bit disbelieving, because how boring would only one anniversary be? “How has your day been? Lots of frustrating number crunching, babe?”

“How’d you guess? I suppose getting away from the planet for a bit might do me some good.”

“Oh, you have no idea how good this is going to be for you.”

When Hux wrinkles his nose at him, Poe winks. A little while later they enter the Takodana atmosphere and set down at Maz Kanata’s palace.

“What the blazes is this place?” Hux gapes up at the giant statue of the proprietor erected at the entrance.

“It’s run by an old friend. You’re gonna love her.”

Poe jumps from his racer and starts out towards the entrance while his boyfriend and his droid follow more slowly. A staccato of blaster shots erupts from the palace. BB-8 rolls backwards with a frightened whoop.

Maz comes running from the entrance, gun as big as herself in her hand, followed by a troop of fighters from all over the Galaxy. “There you are. They got into the main hall and have barricaded themselves in there. We need to form two teams to get them out.”

She nods at a Mon Calamari, who hands blasters to both Poe and Hux. “I’ll go left, Poe, you take the right corridor. They shoot to kill, so I suggest you do the same.”

Face blank, Hux stares down at the blaster in his hand. Then he raises his eyes to Poe’s. “What’s going on?” he mouths.

Poe grins. “Arm, this is Maz Kanata. Maz, this is my boyfriend. Maz here has a little trade consortium dispute she needs help clearing up, so I volunteered our time.”

“Trade consortium dispute,” Hux repeats.

“Yep. You go in there and you shoot those assholes that have taken my palace.” Maz pulls her binoculars in front of her face and adjusts them. “You won’t have trouble telling them apart, they all wear red sashes. Oh, and they’ll try to kill you, so you better shoot fast, lad.”

“Don’t worry.” Poe winks at his boyfriend. “Takodana is outside of Republic jurisdiction, so you’re allowed to carry a gun.”

Maz snorts. “If it wasn’t, half the people here wouldn’t be allowed to fight. Let’s go. Pretty boy, you’re with me.”

She waves at Hux, who casts Poe another sharp look, then follows her together with half of the troop. Poe calls the other half to action and directs them into the maze of Maz’ palace. They sneak along the corridor, round a corner, and flinch back when blaster fire meets the walls in an explosion of sparks. Back pressed against the wall Poe waits for the first pause, then charges ahead, blaster rattling off. He shoots, two creatures crash down. A shot grazes his cheek. He dodges, slams into the opposite wall, shoots back. Fire lights the corridor as one of the attackers screams and drops their blaster with blood splattering the floor. Poe’s troop has taken care of the rest. The last two drop their weapons, raise their arms, and surrender.

Poe reloads his blaster, then gives his fighters the sign to move on, BB-8 trailing behind them. As they approach the main hall, blaster fire greets them from the opposite hallway. A moment later Hux emerges with Maz, running and shooting behind them. Several giant, bear-like creatures follow them, wielding crossbows big enough to blast away a man’s ribcage. As Maz comes closer, one of the monsters catches up with Hux, who is unloading his ammunition onto another that has grasped a fighter. Giant paws smash the fighter against ground and walls, then flinch back with a howl as Hux lands a couple of well-aimed shots into its eyes.

Panting, blaster raised, Poe watches the closest creature aim its crossbow. “Arm, duck!”

Soon as he bellows it, Hux drops and Poe shoots. The beast falls against the wall, howling.

Hux scrambles over to Poe and Maz with a curse. “There’s more in that alley.” He points at the corridor twisting off behind the main hall.

“We’ll go,” Poe says. “Maz, you start with the hall. Take BB-8.”

“Roger.” She shoots another one of the beasts with her blaster and tears apart its paw. “Hurry.”

Poe and Hux run through the corridors around the hall, until another round of fire forces them to a stop. A group of three men advances, one of them with a gold pin on his red sash. Poe turns to run back around the next corner, when Hux grabs his collar and shoves him into a narrow alcove to their right.

Wall collides with his back and then one of the men appears in his line of sight. Before he can raise his blaster Hux has downed him with a single shot. He turns his head to Poe.

“You all right?”

“Never better,” Poe returns, aims his blaster at the second man, and shoots. The guy drops like lead.

“Just the leader now,” Hux whispers into his ear, a laugh in his breathy voice. “I’ll distract him, you take him out.”

“Roger.”

Hux raises his blaster again and starts a rain of shots against the leader, who jumps back and returns fire. Hux dodges, shoots back. With a pang his left arm jerks back and a stripe of red appears.

Fuelled by new anger, Poe aims and shoots. The leader stumbles backwards and Poe shoots again, sends him flying across the corridor, then drop to the ground unmoving.

“Fuck,” Hux grinds out. He has holstered his blaster to his belt and clenches his right hand around his left arm. “I need a minute.”

Lungs burning, Poe reaches into his clip-on bag. He pulls out an emergency first-aid bandage and gently pries Hux’s fingers from his arm. The bandage closes snugly around the wound and a few seconds later the pained hiss in Hux’s panting calms down.

“Better?” he whispers.

“Better,” Hux grunts. “It’s not over.”

The stone walls dull the intermittent rattling of gun fire in the main hall, but they don’t tune it out completely.

“Come on.” Poe leads him to the entrance, where Maz and her troop have settled themselves behind upturned tables. BB-8 bleeps rapid updates at Poe.

She sends grenade after grenade into the hall, causing a storm of smoke and fire. From the chaos, a group of attackers charges at them, blasters blazing. Maz shoots two of them out of the air before they become fully visible.

Hux draws his blaster again and joins Poe in laying rapid fire to the attackers, who have slowed down. They duck behind the tables as the barrage stops for a moment. Then a gigantic, scaly monster of a beast hurtles their table aside with a roar and grabs one of their comrades. The woman shrieks as the beast digs its claws into her side. Poe shoots, but the fire deflects from the scales. Hux grabs his hand, pulls him behind the beast, then points at a bright spot in the back of its head. A few shots and the beast drops the woman and turns to them. It smashes its giant paws into a row of chairs between them, chucks them aside, swipes for Hux. As Hux jumps aside, Poe drops his blaster and pulls his serrated dagger. He activates the switch blade, charges ahead, dodges the grabbing paws, and leaps. His dagger pierces the beast’s throat and opens a gushing wound down its chest until he hits the rock-hard sternum. He pulls out his dagger and stabs it into the beast’s eye as its knees hit the ground. A paw with a knife-sharp set of claws swipes at him. In the last instant, Hux’s blaster meets the paw and blows it to pieces. A hand around Poe’s arm drags him back, out of the beast’s reach.

The creature topples, drops dead. Panting, sweat running down his temples in rivulets, Poe looks up. Seven opponents remain, but at the sight of their leader dead, they all drop their weapons. As Maz threatens them with her blaster, they raise their arms and drop to their knees.

“Holy blazes,” Hux gasps, grinning wildly through blood-streaked strands of hair. “When you said anniversary date I didn’t expect this.”

“Right? I thought a change of pace would be fun.”

“Oh, honey, you know me so well.” Hux grabs his collar and draws him in for a long kiss. The stench of blood clings to him and his breath ghosts in ragged gusts over Poe’s cheeks. Adrenaline burning his blood, he wants nothing more than wrestle the torn and bloody shirt from Hux’s body. If they didn’t have spectators around he’d turn their making out session PG-18 within a heartbeat. Instead, he contents himself with kissing back ferociously up until the moment Maz Kanata clears her throat.

“Right.” Poe straightens his back. He waves his droid closer, who zooms through the mess of bodies on the floor and comes to a halt before them. “Is that all of them?”

“Hopefully,” she answers grimly. “Have your droid scan the place. And then you’ll have to introduce that boyfriend of yours to me anew.”

Poe nods and picks up his blaster. While BB-8 rolls through the lower levels of the palace to check for more enemies, he helps Maz put the surrendering foes into shackles and survey the damage.

“I’ve had worse,” she finally concludes as they return the undamaged tables and start cleaning everything broken and dead from the hall.

“That’s nice,” Hux comments and wipes stranger’s blood from his cheek. “Have a lot of trouble with trade consortiums?”

“They’ve become more obnoxious recently. I think it’s the rogues that band together nowadays.”

“Yeah, we’ve had trouble with them as well.” Poe steps up to one of the captives. “They got new weapons, too.”

“You,” the captive spits out with a spluttering cough. “Why are you- why is General Hux with you?”

The shock hits Poe square in the chest. He stumbles back. “How did you-”

“I’d recognize that sycophant’s face anywhere. You all deserve to die!”

Hux steps forward. “I know you.” His voice has heightened, resumed an old quality of disdain. “You were a spy for the First Order. Betrayed your own people and turned around like a dog the moment you smelled profit.”

“It _is_ you!” the man cries. “You sold yourself to a Resistance cur. Always knew you’re a snivelling coward who-”

Hux raises his blaster. The moment his shot goes off, Poe pulls him back. The fire hits the opposite wall.

“No shooting unarmed people, sweetie, come on.”

Growling, Hux fights against Poe’s hold for a moment. Then he lowers his arm and allows Poe to wrestle the blaster from his hand.

“You’re not worth my breath.” He turns around and stalks away.

Poe heaves a breath of relief and straightens up to find Maz eyeing him with her binoculars turned to close inspection. “Uh, hi.”

“Got yourself a boyfriend, huh.”

“That’s right.”

“Gorgeous boy.”

“Thanks.”

“Where you got him from?”

Poe sits down at one of the tables. Maz’ bartender hands out mugs of ale to everyone. Poe takes his, drinks, then slams it onto the table. “You want to say something, say it.”

“Mhm. Bring him over.”

Poe waves at his boyfriend, who is still glaring at the captives that one of Maz’ bouncers has started taking outside. “Once again, Maz, this is Armitage. My boyfriend.”

Hux looks down at the small woman with a blank face.

She starts adjusting her binoculars. “Come down here, come on my level, lad. Let me take a look at you.”

When Hux gives Poe a glance, he shrugs and nods. The moment Hux squats down, Maz leans right into his personal space.

“You’ve got a history,” she muses, grabs Hux’s ear and pulls his face up and down. “You’ve seen things, haven’t you? Living with regret.”

“No regrets,” Hux grinds out and tries to pull back.

Maz’ fingers holds him tight. “Life’s complicated. You’re beginning to understand that. I like you. Get up, get yourself a mug of ale. You been fighting good, all of you.”

Hux huffs, but he obeys. As he stalks over to the bar, Maz turns to Poe. “First Order, hmm?”

He shrugs. “That was ages ago. He’s been good.”

“Does your other boyfriend know?”

“I only got the one.”

“You know who I’m talking about, boy.”

Poe squirms from the penetrating stare she pins him with. “Finn is… I’m not sure what he’d say. I’m a bit worried to find out.”

“Quite right so.” Maz raises her binoculars and sits down next to him, pulls a mug close to her that is almost as large as she is. “He’s still fighting with his past, that one. But you know, you’re being unfair to this one.” She nods at Hux, talking at the bar to a woman in thick bounty hunter armour. “It’s no good being ashamed of the ones we love.”

“I know.” Poe bites his lip. “Maz, I know. I’m trying, I just… Arm doesn’t like Finn, anyway. He doesn’t care.”

“Is that what he tells you? If the roles were reversed – if you’d lost the war and he kept you a secret, how’d you feel about that?”

Poe closes his eyes. “I know.”

“Do you?”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Do it soon.”

Poe nods. The bench dents as Hux sits down next to him.

As Maz leaves them alone, Poe reaches up to stroke a few strands of hair from his boyfriend’s face and check his skin for more injuries. “You all right?”

“All good.” Hux smiles at him, the first relaxed smile Poe has seen on him for weeks. “How’d you land this gig?”

“Maz called me up out of the blue and asked if I wanted to earn a night of free booze. I thought you might like the change of pace.”

“Poe, you know I always love to kill things with blasters.”

“That’s my boyfriend.” Poe leans in to collect more kisses. Weird how fighting evil trade consortium stooges together can make him feel so much closer to someone he has already spent two years with. “By the way, I think you were right. It’s too many anniversaries. Normally couples have one, for when they got together first. Maybe we should do that and forget the rest.”

“Mmmh. When’d we get together first, though?”

“Good question.” Someone places a bowl of roasted nuts on the table. Poe cracks one open and throws it into his mouth. “Today?”

“Sex isn’t dating. Otherwise we’d already celebrated our seventh anniversary.”

“Right. First date then?”

“That’s just a date. Date doesn’t make dating.”

“This is getting harder. What about the first time you stayed over- no, that doesn’t work. The first time we… the first time I made you breakfast?”

“That would be tomorrow. The first time I stayed after breakfast, just out of comfort.”

“Hmm.” Poe chews another handful of nuts as he counts the days in his head. “That would be two months from today, when we went on that boat ride.”

“I remember. That was some ridiculously romantic bullshit.”

Poe grins. “Admit it, you loved it.”

“I was soaked. I kept freezing for hours.”

“Yeah, you started sneezing and I had to wrap you in blankets till you stopped shivering. That sounds like a good start.”

“Twelfth month,” Hux mutters and pries open the husk of a nut. “Fourth day.”

“What do you want to do that day? Wanna go boat riding again?”

Hux shakes his head with a grimace. “I don’t want a big deal. The thing I liked most about that day was taking a hot shower at your place and then having pumpkin soup.”

“That we can do. I’ll make you pumpkin soup again, and some nice stew. We can spend the entire evening just the two of us.”

Hux leans forward and rubs his nose against Poe’s, lands a light kiss on his lips, smiling. “I might be down for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another fyi - "If the roles were reversed – if you’d lost the war and he kept you a secret, how’d you feel about that?" That sentence has by now triggered a whole new idea I've been obsessing over for the past two weeks or so. It's gonna be long and it's gonna be dark and filthy as hell, but there will be another AU waiting, so stay tuned <3


	26. 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter today, because I'm moving out today and flying back from Japan to Germany tomorrow. Fifteen months of intense, but rewarding research, now I only have to write it up into something that makes sense.   
> Wish me a good flight, I get a little nervous on planes.

“So, Rose’s got a girlfriend,” Finn says and slumps back on Poe’s couch. “Rose. A girlfriend.”

“I know,” Poe says. He takes two beers from the fridge and brings them over. “I’ve met her, she’s sweet.”

“You know she kissed me once?”

“I know. You wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“And now she’s got a girlfriend.”

“Well, these things happen. Can’t everybody realize they’re gay and then live their best lives from age thirteen like me.”

Finn shakes his head and takes the beer. “I honestly thought she’d given up on dating after I chose Rey.”

“Oh, the hubris.”

“I mean, she’s been so busy with the new republic and with Leia’s fleet. How’d she even find the time to go on dates?”

“I don’t know.” Poe sits down. “Is that why you came over? To talk about Rose’s new love interest?”

“I’m here to catch up with you. It’s been weeks since we’ve talked. Wait, you said you’ve met Rose girlfriend, are you serious? When? Where?”

“A couple of days ago when we went through our recent missions. She came in, Rose introduced her, she said hello and left again.”

“Why do I gotta be the last person to meet her?” Finn grumbles. “Rey is meeting her tomorrow, what about me?”

“Finn, buddy, I’d love to hear all about your misery, but I kind of have a date later, so maybe we can move this to tomorrow or-”

“Date,” Finn says. “With your boyfriend. Who I’ve also never met.”

“You will, promise.”

“You’ve told us nothing about him so far. I don’t even know what he does for a living.”

“He works at my company.” Maybe tonight is the night. He could tell Finn, wait for Arm to come home, then introduce them anew. Wouldn’t that be sweet?

“Oh.” Finn takes a long sip from his beer. “Oh, that’s great! We were so worried, Rey and I, but that’s great.”

“Worried,” Poe repeats. “Worried about what?”

Finn does not look at him. “Just the way you’ve been taking on so many cases over the years, we were worried that you’d meet someone shady. But you found someone in the company, so we can relax.”

“What exactly does shady mean to you?”

“You know.” Finn shrugs. “Someone from a project of yours. Like, you spend all this time helping people become better, but that’s your work. You should be able to come home and relax with someone nice and gentle. Someone who’s as good as you. You deserve the best, Poe.”

As Finn offers him a blinding smile, Poe sinks deeper into his armchair. How does he even begin to explain if Finn keeps talking like this?

_He probably hasn’t forgiven Arm even now._

“Well, I’m happy.”

 _Maybe this needs a bit more time_.

“Yeah, I can see. You look great,” Finn prattles on, oblivious.

“So you can rest assured that my boyfriend’s really good for me, the best actually.”

“Must be an angel. I don’t get why you haven’t introduced us yet.”

“Well, see, that’s just it-” Poe starts, but a jingle interrupts him.

Finn raises his hand and pulls out his smart pad. “Sorry, that’s work. Can I borrow your bathroom really quick?”

Why now, of all time? Defeated, Poe nods and slumps back into his chair. Finn has barely closed the bathroom door behind him, when the flat door clicks open. Poe turns his head, then jumps up when Hux enters, dragging a heavy bag of groceries inside.

“Hey,” he greets Poe with a smile and straightens his back. “I’ve got way too many peppers, but that’s what makes it fun, right? Are you ready for the one true anniversary?”

“Yeah, right, except, listen, Finn’s kinda here and…”

Hux lets go of the grocery bag. It topples onto the floor. “And?”

“I’m not sure how to ease him into the whole thing, I mean-”

“You haven’t told him.” Flat tone, no muscle moving in his face.

Shame chomps into Poe’s guts. “Not yet.”

Hux heaves a deep breath, exhales with fluttering nostrils. “Two years, Poe.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I tried bringing it up, it was never the right time, I didn’t know how…”

“I’ll go.”

“No.” Poe grabs his wrist to hold him back. “Wait. We can do it now. I’ll tell him and he’ll just have to deal.”

“Now.”

“Yeah.” Tries his best winning smile.

“Poe, I was looking forward to a quiet dinner and some time for just the two of us. Now you want to ruin our entire evening by telling your best friend you’re dating your former enemy? I don’t want to be a part of that conversation.”

“It’s gonna be all right. He’ll understand.”

“He might.” Hux’s voice has grown quiet. Dark. “Do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Two years and you’re still too embarrassed of me to mention me to the people closest to you. Is this a relationship or do you just consider me your guilty secret?”

Oh, this is bad. This is the worst.

“Arm, please, don’t say it like that. I’m your boyfriend, nails, teeth, and all. I’m not embarrassed, it’s just- it’s complicated.”

“I can’t. Not tonight, I can’t deal with this tonight. I’ll leave.”

“Please don’t leave, come on. I’ll introduce you and tell him to go. We can still have our anniversary dinner.”

“Except we can’t, not really.” Hux pulls his wrist free and steps back through the door. “Call me when he’s gone.”

Before Poe can react, the door falls shut. He is alone with the groceries. He considers running after Hux, but in that moment the bathroom door opens and Finn comes back.

“Sorry about that. Was someone at the door?”

Poe stares down to the pumpkin, carrots, and leek at his feet. “My boyfriend.”

“Ohhh! Can I finally meet him? Where is he?”

“Left. He doesn’t feel like meeting new people today.”

“Shit. Why didn’t you call me out here? I wanted to meet him so badly!”

“Finn.” Fingers jittering, Poe turns around. “I’m kinda beat today. Can we continue this another time?”

“Yeah, sure.” Says it without a hint of concern in his voice. For being Force sensitive Finn can be remarkably daft at times. “Next time with the boyfriend, you promise?”

“We’ll see.”

Guilt churning in his guts, chest heavy, Poe watches Finn collect himself and leave. He could blurt it out, right here and now. Might make things easier. But right now all he wants is to get Arm back and to explain to him-

What?

Is he really still ashamed of him?

As soon as Finn is gone he texts Hux and heaves the groceries into the kitchen. He starts with the soup at once; it’s going to be the best thing he has ever cooked. He is going to surprise his boyfriend with the most amazing anniversary meal in the history of anniversaries, so Arm will have no choice but to forgive him. The evening will be perfect.

The pumpkins simmer by the time the door opens and Hux appears in the kitchen. Cheeks and nose reddened from the cold wind outside, hair tousled from the adorable trapper hat he wears in winter.

“There you are.” Poe tries for bold cheerfulness. “It’s gonna be ready in half an hour. This is gonna blow you out of your socks, I promise.”

“Poe…”

“Just taste it. Here, I’ve mixed olive oil under the soup. Try it, it’s great.”

“Poe.”

Poe hustles through the kitchen, cutting meat for the stew and adjusting the heat on the soup, keeping as busy as he can until he has nothing left to do. Hux is standing at the working slate, head lowered, hands in his pockets. He hasn’t bothered taking off his coat yet. Poe comes to a halt before him.

“I’m not in the mood for a dinner date,” Hux offers, voice quiet and calm.

“You’re angry.”

“I’m not angry. I’m… I don’t know what I am. I think I need time to figure it out.”

“I was gonna tell him. I swear I was going to.”

“Poe, at this point, you’d have to do some pretty extraordinary lying and juggling to keep me a secret from your closest friends. Don’t insult me further by lying to me.”

“I’m not. Arm, I wanted to tell him so badly. I don’t know why I haven’t yet, but I’m not gonna look for excuses anymore.”

“He still doesn’t know.”

Numb. Everything feels numb. How could he fuck up so badly?

“Poe, I’m…” Hux sighs. “It’s not like I don’t understand.”

How could he believe Arm when he said it didn’t bother him?

“You don’t have to understand.” Where did his voice go? This coarse scratch isn’t him. “I’ll fix it, I swear-”

“Poe.” Says it so softly, as though he is trying not to squish a baby bird.

He can’t look at him, is too afraid to even sneak a peek in his direction. “I’ll fix it, give me a chance to fix it.”

“I need time to think.”

“All right.” Gulps and suddenly there is a lump in his throat so thick it threatens to suffocate him. “Go think. I’ll keep making dinner. You go and rest.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.”

“Arm, please-”

“I’ll go stay with Peti tonight. She keeps inviting me over, might as well take her up on her offer.”

No. If he goes-

“Arm, please don’t go. Stay, let’s talk. Or not talk, I’ll give you all the space you want, but please stay here. If you go-”

If he goes…

Hux shakes his head. “I need a night to myself. You eat. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, all right?”

“Don’t go.” This was supposed to be the anniversary. _The_ anniversary. It was supposed to be good. “Please don’t go, Arm, please.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The softness in Hux’s voice tips over and turns into weariness. He sounds as exhausted as Poe feels.

He doesn’t look up. Stays, head lowered, hands clenching at his side, as the door to the flat opens and falls shut. He is alone.

Since there is nothing else he can do he finishes making soup and stew. Then he packs all of it into containers to stow away later. Heats himself up a couple of bland bread rolls and takes them to the couch without turning on the TV. After half a bread roll he puts them aside.

Inside him the fear expands, takes up every inch, threatens to roll over him and leave him cold and empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did promise you angst, didn't I?


	27. 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two days back in Germany and I'm ready to take a job in Japan and move there permanently...   
> Changed update time, because I'm now living 7 hours later.

Poe isn’t sure how this works, but he is pretty sure that he can’t be the one calling. All he can do is wait for Hux to call him. The day passes in silence. Around noon, he takes his racer for a round of their newest building sites. Checks at the camps to make sure people feel safe and happy.

Flying has always been his best distraction, but nothing prepares him for the onslaught of fear the moment he touches ground again. As the sun sets over Coruscant and the snowfall turns heavier, he returns to his office.

He could have gone straight home. Maybe Arm is back already, maybe everything is back to normal, but the dread inside him forces him to stay. If he returns now and the flat is empty and Arm is gone… So he stays, goes through old files and sorts new ones, waiting, unsure if what he is waiting for will ever come.

When his pad chirps he nearly chucks it off the desk in his frantic attempts to activate it.

_Are you home already?_

He nearly bursts into tears from relief. It’s Arm.

_Not yet. Are you?_

_I’m in the Redleaf Hillside Park. At the benches next to the old sycamore._

_I’m on my way._

Never has he fled his office faster. Throws on his winter coat on his way to the elevator, pulls on gloves and hat while he watches the floor numbers count down. His car starts with a wheezing cough, brittle from the cold. Evening traffic makes him nearly scream in frustration; iced over leaves in the park make him nearly slip and break his legs.

Hux is waiting at the sycamore as promised, sitting on the bench looking over the hill down onto the city. In the wan light of a single street lamp his breath rises in white clouds from his nose. Gloved hands wrap around a coffee cup that has long stopped steaming.

“Hey.” All Poe wants to do is take him into his arms and kiss him. Instead, he stops before the bench, hands thrust into his coat pockets.

“I bought you coffee.” Hux picks up the cup standing next to him. “I fear it’s cold now.”

“Thank you.” Best boyfriend. Best boyfriend in the whole Galaxy. Bought him coffee with a dip of milk, no sugar. It even steams a little when Poe lifts the lid.

Hux stands up and walks to the iron fence at the slope. Poe joins him. For a few minutes they stand quietly, looking out over the myriad blinking and moving lights of the city.

“I didn’t want anyone to know at first,” Poe finally says. He has opted for honesty, because it’s the only thing left. “I never expected for this to last.”

Hux huffs out a sigh. “Me neither.”

“By the time we became serious, I already saw in you… so much more than that.”

“That.”

“You know. The man we’d captured five years ago. I saw who you were striving to become and I admired you for it. So much.”

Hux sneers. “Nothing to be admired for.”

“No, it is. I started with the Resistance, because it’s what I grew up with. It was obvious to me which path to take. You had to make a complete U-turn and renounce everything you’d ever held valid and you did.”

“Don’t turn this into another redemption talk, I beg of you.”

Poe shrinks a little, but a hint of a smile has appeared in the corners of Hux’s mouth. “I’m not, I’m just trying to set the scene. When I thought about telling Finn and Rey, I knew that I’d have to tell them the whole story. I’d have to make them see what I saw in you, this amazing, funny, sexy man I’d fallen in love with, and I never knew how to start. The more time passed, the more daunting it became.”

Hux shakes his head, but he does not interrupt.

“I’m not ashamed of you. But every time I talk to Finn, he reminds me that he still sees that old general in you. It frustrates me.”

“You have every reason to be ashamed.” The city lights twinkle in Hux’s eyes. Red and orange and yellow stars in faint blue. “And I will never… I’ll never have the right to be angry about it.”

After his speech, Poe was sure he could make Hux see the truth from his eyes. He did not expect this kind of reaction. “That’s nonsense. I understand why you’re angry, I do. You have a right to be.”

“I’m not angry.” Hux turns and for the first time looks at Poe properly. “I want to be, but maybe… I think I’m still ashamed myself. And I see that shame reflected in you and I don’t want to- I’m tired. I’ll never be free of it. Maybe that’s just how it is, but how am I supposed to have a relationship that’s built on this very shame?”

“What are you talking about, Arm, you don’t have to be ashamed. I’m not dating you because I want to remind you of what happened, I’m dating you because I love you.”

The dread that receded a bit at the beginning of their talk returns with full force. This is not a good talk. Hux’s eyes, trailing off every couple of seconds, staying unfocused towards the night sky, are not happy eyes. When did things go so wrong?

“Maybe not intentionally, but this is my reality. I spend every one of my days working to make up for what I’ve done and sometimes I wonder…” He takes a sharp breath. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to come home to someone who only knows this version of me.”

When did this turn into the worst talk of all times?

“You want someone you’d have to lie to?” The torture session when General Hux tried to extract information about the map to Skywalker wasn’t as painful as this conversation. “Someone who could never find out who you are, because you know they wouldn’t accept you?” Maybe this was Arm’s long con. His way of making Poe lose his heart to him, only to rip it to shreds. Well done. Revenge accomplished.

“At least not come home knowing I can never demand anything, because I’ll never be good enough.”

“Arm, that’s your interpretation, not mine. I never demanded that you keep yourself quiet. If I fuck up, tell me. Tell me right now, please. We can work this out.”

Hux’s lips thin. “I’m not even sure I want to.”

“Arm, please, look at me. Will you look at me.”

He does. As his eyes meet Poe’s, something inside him shatters.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, don’t you know that?”

“I know.” How can he sound so calm while Poe’s world is being torn apart? “It doesn’t change that I still feel like a prisoner.”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen, believe me, I didn’t-”

“Who were we fooling? I mean, do you really believe this could ever work out for real? We were playing around on borrowed time.”

“No. Maybe that was true once, but it isn’t anymore. This is real. You can’t make it any less by acting like it doesn’t exist. Tell me what to do better, Arm, please.”

“But that’s the thing.” Hux swallows. “I can’t. I’ll never be able to do that. And I can’t fake anymore.”

“Arm, please. _Please_ don’t do this.” The city lights turn bright and big as a mist falls over his eyes. He did not know heartbreak could be so visceral. “Please.”

“I never had time to myself. We jumped into this relationship the moment I left prison and now I don’t even know who I am anymore. I need time.”

“Please.”

Hux turns away from Poe’s pleading eyes and stares across the city. For minutes, the only noise is the distant rushing of the cars.

“Please,” Poe repeats, mind void of anything else.

“We knew this was going to end sooner or later.”

“No, we didn’t. We didn’t, I didn’t. I want you, only you. Please, Arm, think about it.”

“I have.”

“I thought we were happy-” His voice breaks and drops. Poe breathes flat through his nose to combat the sudden rush of sickness in his throat.

“You were.” Hux takes a step from the fence. “I can’t- You know I can’t quit the job, so I’ll keep it. But I ask that you give me some space.”

“Please.” He squeezes his eyes shut, cheeks freezing over from his tears. “Please don’t go.”

The silence drags on so long, Poe almost dares himself to hope again. Maybe if he reaches out now, if he holds on and doesn’t let go-

“Take care.”

As the frosted grass crunches under Hux’s boots, Poe folds in on himself. The world comes crushing down and buries him.


	28. 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know I thrive on your suffering xoxo

“Mommy, no, mommy, mommy don’t go!” The two girls cling to Rey, one on each arm as she tries to put on her coat.

“Girls, come here.” Finn transports three mugs of hot chocolate to the table. “Mommy’s just going to Auntie Rose for a little mommy time. We’re gonna have so much fun tonight without her.”

Rey sticks out her tongue at him.

“Nooo!” Lyra wails and the coat floats from Rey’s fingers and drops over the corner lamp.

“Mommyyyy!” Maya refuses to cede to her sister in pitch and volume.

“Here, who wants to beat daddy in _Rebel Ace_?” Finn switches on the gaming station.

Quick as kittens the girls drop from Rey’s arms and scramble to the couch.

“All right,” Rey huffs and fetches her coat from the lamp. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Have fun, love you.”

“Bye,” both girls return in monotone voices, eyes glued to the TV.

Rey rolls her eyes and kisses Finn’s cheek. “Don’t let them skip dinner over playtime.”

As soon as she is gone, Finn turns to the girls. “So what’s on the menu tonight? Who wants sausages?”

“Daddy, Lyra’s cheating!” Maya cries.

Finn sighs. “Sausages it is.”

After dinner the girls return to playtime, until they start yawning. Getting them weaned off the console triggers another screaming match, but finally they lie in bed. It takes barely three bedtime stories to get them to fall asleep.

Dead tired, Finn returns to the living room and the mess of unwashed dishes and stuffed animals covering every surface. Better get started at once.

He has barely rinsed the plates, when the doorbell rings. Weird. Could Rey be back already? But no, it’s not even half past nine. Ladies’ Night with Rose usually keeps her occupied at least until midnight.

Finn dries his hands and opens the front door to Poe, standing on his doormat with his head lowered, melted snowflakes in his hair, shivering.

“Poe, holy shit, you look cold. Come on inside and get yourself warmed up, where the blazes have you been?”

He has to do a double take to notice that Poe’s cheeks glisten with more than snowflakes.

“Are you- Poe, are you crying?”

Yesterday’s weird conversation returns to him. Concern bubbles up with a bitter taste. There is something that he missed.

“It’s over…”

Poe’s voice remains stuck in his throat, so quiet Finn isn’t sure whether he heard right.

“What’s going on, buddy?”

He lays a hand on Poe’s back and leads him inside the living room. Poe sinks down on the couch, head still lowered, shoulders shaking with hiccups from time to time.

“It’s over… he broke up with me.”

“Your boyfriend? What happened?”

“It was…” Poe rubs a sleeve over his nose. “It was Hux.” Says it and exhales with a shuddering sigh.

“Hux,” Finn repeats, horror-struck. “What did he do? Did he- did he kill your boyfriend? Poe, what did Hux do?”

Poe shakes his head so vehemently he flicks little droplets onto the couch and Finn’s hands. “It was Hux,” he repeats, more urgently. “My boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend,” Finn says, unsure what Poe is trying to tell him, because somewhere in the middle something seems to be missing. “It was Hux. Your boyfriend. Your boyf- _your boyfriend was Hux?!_ ”

Poe says nothing, merely sits there, head buried in his hands, shaking.

“Your boyfriend,” Finn says, flabbergasted, “was Hux.”

“I didn’t tell you,” Poe whispers between hiccups. “I didn’t tell you and now he’s broken up with me because I’m a coward and a shitty person and I-”

“What? No, you’re not. Did he say that?” Did that fucking general dare make Poe feel guilty about anything?

“He didn’t have to. I shouldn’t have- I should have told you. I should’ve told you guys ages ago, but you hated him so much…”

Well, that one is true. They did hate him, Finn much more so than Rey. He takes a deep breath, then another one, eyes fixed on Poe. But then, he hasn’t seen Hux in over seven years. He never bothered with him after they captured him, not during the trial and certainly not afterwards. He knew Poe was keeping Hux in his organization, but even then it would never have occurred to him to check up on the ex-general. Why should he have? Hux had caused nothing but misery to him his whole life.

“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but… how?”

Poe wipes his nose again. Finn fetches a box of tissues, omnipresent in a household with two four-year-olds. He holds it out to Poe, who grabs a handful and blows.

“I used to have a crush on you,” he then says coarsely.

If Finn thought this conversation could not get any more awkward he was sorely mistaken. “I, um, I kinda figured. Sorry.”

Poe waves the comment away. “Don’t. It’s long in the past. But seeing you with Rey kinda… it hurt, you know.”

Finn nods, even though Poe is still not looking at him. Back then he elected to act as though he hadn’t noticed Poe’s heart eyes, because it seemed like the easiest way to deal with things. Maybe he should have addressed the issue, after all.

“I was seriously bummed out about the whole thing and I had no one to talk to, since the one I wanted to talk to most was you. Arm – Hux, that is – he felt safe.”

“Safe,” Finn repeats. There are a lot of words he might use for General Hux, most of them less than flattering. Safe is not even in the vicinity of any of them.

“Safe not to have my heart broken. There was no way I’d fall for someone like him. I felt like I could make myself forget around him, because I could pull out and drop him whenever I needed to. That sounds… pretty crappy, I know.”

“I mean, it’s Hux.” His reason still refuses to follow. “I guess that’s a valid way of thinking.”

Poe shakes his head and blows his nose again. “That’s why I got involved with him, at first. Also, you might not see it, but he’s pretty damn sexy.”

“Yeah, no, sorry. That’s lost on me.”

“It’s true, though. And the more time I spent with him the less I wanted to let him go. You know, it started out without me thinking about it and I didn’t expect it to feel good… but it did. He made me feel good. And then I expected that feeling to go away after a while and it didn’t. Being with him, it just felt… like I could relax. I didn’t have to play the hero for a little while, not with him.”

Poe breaks down into another fit of sobs. “I don’t- I don’t even know why I couldn’t keep one of the good guys around for more than two months, but the moment he came into my life again, it was so easy… I mean, he’s pretty damn difficult, but it was all worth it.”

“Right,” Finn says, more helpless by the minute. “So, you started dating. But, Poe, I mean, he’s still Hux, isn’t he?”

“You don’t know him.” Poe sniffs. “You haven’t met him in years. Prison changed him, but that was only half of it. I put him in construction because I knew damn well that he’d come face to face with victims of the First Order. I needed to know if there was anything salvageable about his soul.”

“And he… became nice?”

“No, he’s still a bitch. But he started doing things… he really is working harder than anyone else in the office. He’s been accepting of the damage he’s done and he’s trying so hard, so damn hard, to redeem at least a little bit of it. You can’t mention redemption in front of him, or being good or anything. He hates that. He doesn’t want to be good. But he is, so, so good.”

“I mean, Poe, he still killed billions.”

“He took responsibility for killing billions. Tell me, Finn, can you place the blame for a deed that abhorrent on a single person’s conscience? Unlike all those other cowards, at least he owned up to it.”

“So you’re okay with it now.”

“No, I’m not. But I can’t shoulder the pain of the whole Galaxy. He’s done bad things, now he’s trying to do better. That’s good enough for me.”

 _Not the man we thought he’d end up with_.

“All right.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He broke up with me.” Poe starts wailing again, leaving Finn to pat his back in a helpless little gesture.

 _Shit. Didn’t mean for this to happen. We did make an awful lot of fun of Hux. And we pressured him. If only I’d handled his feelings better from the beginning instead of running off with Rey and assuming he’d get over it by himself_.

Finn leans back in the couch and takes a deep breath. _I was too much of a coward to tell him I was done with men after the disaster that was my last relationship and now he’s crying because General Hux dumped him._

“Poe, buddy.” His voice is wavering like a flag in the storm. “Listen, I’m- I’m sorry. We made a lot of dumb comments and made you feel like you couldn’t come and talk to us. I mean, I admit I’m stunned. I didn’t expect that.” He attempts a little laugh and fails. “But we shouldn’t have made you feel like you had to hide who you’re dating from us. If you say that Hux has changed and that you’re happy with him, that should be enough for us.”

Poe nods, grabs more tissues, and begins wiping his face. “I should’ve just told you.”

“I mean, maybe if you tell him you told me he’ll come back…?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s that easy. I really hurt his feelings.”

“Yeah, but he-” – _evaporated a whole planet like it was nothing._ “I don’t know how to handle that, I’m sorry.”

Poe shakes his head, sniffs, and grabs a new handful of tissues to wipe his eyes dry. “It’s fine. Can I just stay here for a bit? I don’t want to go home right now, to that place without him.”

“Of course. Why don’t you stay over for the night? I’ll let Rey know.”

Poe nods and heaves a couple of deep breaths. “That would be nice.”

“Can I tell her… about Hux?”

“Yeah. I’m done keeping it a secret.”

“She’s with Rose, though, so Rose is gonna know, too.”

“Oh, Rose knows already.”

“She does what now?”

“She even met him once. Had him apologize for nearly killing her. Told him she wasn’t gonna apologize for biting him. That made him laugh.” Poe doubles over and starts wailing again. “I miss him so much!”

“You told Rose.” _But you didn’t tell us_. “I’ll make us some tea. And then you’re gonna explain it to me again, but in detail.”


	29. 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No offence to Kylo Ren, but ever since Episode IX woobified him like that I have lost interest in him to an extent that most of the time I forget about his existence.

Avoiding home becomes second nature. Poe scours the outskirts of the outer rim, sleazy little bars and spice trading joints, junk cities outside of Republic jurisdiction that he barely escapes with his hide intact, going through three blasters in a week. He follows leads about stormtrooper hideouts given to him by criminals so sketchy they make his eyes water, to remote little hide-outs on desert planets and within asteroid belts all around the Galaxy.

Not going home is easy. Not writing pages of messages begging for a second chance is much harder, especially after a drinking game with one of the most notorious black weapons traders in the Wild Space or while clinging to life halfway submerged in a healing tank at some unhospitable ice moon after a shoot down.

In the first week he hoped for Arm to tell him he had made a mistake every single day. He clung to that hope while it faded during the second and third week. In the fourth week one of the settlements his foundation supported in the Gordian Reach is attacked by a group of rogues. Forty people left dead, another twenty wounded. All the supplies they had delivered, food, droids and water tanks, stolen.

He decides to pay Leia a visit.

“If I were you I’d hunt them down,” she advises. “Those gangs have become more daring. The same thing happened after the fall of the Empire. For a couple of years things quieted down while everyone was licking their wounds and the criminals got too scared of us to make a lot of noise. But then people started recovering. The guilds picked up those troopers that refused to play nice. We were too slow in beating them back, or rather, the Republic decided they had more important things to do than bother with a couple of thieves in the remote regions, and that’s how we got the First Order.”

“Can I borrow a couple of X-Wings?”

“You know what? I’ll join you myself. It’s been a while since I’ve had some fun.”

Leia knows how to make things happen fast. Two days later they man a starfighter on their way to the Gordian Reach.

“Too bad your boy toy couldn’t make it,” Leia comments as they jump into hyper drive. “I mean, here we go busting his old cronies and he can’t even be part of it.”

Poe flinches back. “Finn told you.”

“Sure did.”

“So I guess everybody knows about it now, huh?”

“Relax, son.” She clasps a hand on his shoulder in a pat that is meant to be reassuring but slams all air from his lungs. “No judgement here or have you forgotten who my daddy was?”

“So you don’t think I’m a complete failure?”

“Poe.” Small as she is, she still manages to make him feel tiny when she grabs his arms and forces him to look into her eyes. “I get why you kept it from us, but here’s the thing. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself to be perfect, especially when it comes to Finn and Rey.”

“Okay, but how can I not do that. They’re perfect.”

“Poppycock. They’re a mess, just like you and me. Look at them. You’ve been holding a candle to them for too long and I get it. They’re the new generation of Jedi, that’s intimidating. You can’t wield the Force, so what? I’ve found a good blaster and a sharp intuition much more useful most times than the Force; why do you think I never became like my brother?”

“Yeah, but you’re still awesome.”

“And so are you. And at least you take things slow. Those two, they’ve been so desperate to find a sense of normalcy that they up and got married a couple of months into dating. Then came the kids. I’ve been there and trust me, you don’t do that shit because you’re dealing so well with all the chaos around you.”

Poe bites his lip. Sometimes he forgets that Leia has a past. “Right.”

“You think Han and I knew what we were doing? We got swept up in trying to recapture everything we’d lost during the war and it ended up tearing us apart. And now look at me. My ex-husband is dead. My son has been lost for longer than I’ve ever had him to myself. I truly hope that Rey and Finn are going to be better parents than Han and I were. I mean, it shouldn’t be hard. But if you think you’re the only one who came out of the war a little damaged, think again.”

Poe leans back in the co-pilot’s seat. “I guess I can see what you mean. It’s just, they look so happy. They’ve both found the perfect partner.”

“You think that because you only see your own shortcomings. They run across the Galaxy all the time, dealing with fallout from a war they didn’t start. Trust me, they're barely holding it together. You, on the other hand, you’ve been dealing with your demons. So you started dating a guy with a complicated past. Big deal.”

Sweat prickles on his palms. He cards both hands through his curls. “The thing is, Finn’s got a history with Arm. What do I do if he can’t forgive him? And I’m the guy who put Arm back in Finn’s life.”

“Ah. Yes.” Leia coughs. “So, here’s the thing. You can’t make Finn forgive Hux if he doesn’t want to. Can’t force that kind of thing. They might hate each other for the rest of their lives and that’s completely out of your hand. But Poe, don’t choose your partner based on who your friends like. You don’t owe them, or anyone, justification. If he’s the one you want, he’s the one you date and if they try to give you grief over that, you tell them they can suck your dick.”

“I mean, that’s all dandy in theory. Fact is that Arm has still dumped me.”

“What are you, a baby? Go get him back, ace pilot. He’s not gonna find someone better than you, so you keep at it until he’s got that in his dumb skull. Do you think Han gave up when I turned him down the first twenty times? No, he kept at it, because that’s what you do for the one you love.”

Poe shakes his head. “Leia, the world doesn’t work like that anymore. I can’t just override my partner’s consent and stalk him until he gives up, that’s bad.”

Leia mutters a couple of expletives to herself. “World’s become too complicated for me. You can bet your ass that this is the exact tactic I’m gonna use on my son until he comes home.”

She switches from hyper drive to below light speed and spits them out at the border of Gordon Reach.

For the first time in four weeks Poe feels a little grin coming on. He stands up and lays a hand on her shoulder. “You do you.”


	30. 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff is happening! What is Hux gonna do??

“I just think someone should call them in line.” Mana spoons strawberry whipped cream into her mouth. “They’re not my parents, they’re my foster parents. They have no right telling me how long I can stay out.”

“Mhm.” Hux drags his eyes from the handsome, curly-haired barista back to his conversation partner. He has got to stop seeing Poe everywhere. “Wait, what?”

“Seriously, were you even listening? I’m being held prisoner here!”

“Having a curfew is not prison. How’s school, anyway?”

She puffs up her cheeks. “Why do you want to know? What is it with adults and always asking about school, life’s about more than just school, you know.”

“Is it? Have you made friends already?”

Mana crosses her arms. “I’m a seventeen year old girl who killed a man with her bare hands and is prettier than should be legal. I don’t have friends; I have admirers, swathes of them.”

“You’re a brat.” Hux sips his coffee. The barista winked at him when he set down the mug, as though there was a chance in hell that Hux would give him the time of the day.

“You know, when I told you, you should dump your boyfriend I thought it’d leave you more focused, but you’ve just become insufferable. Why’d you break up with him if you miss him that much, anyway?”

Hux sighs. “There are adult things you don’t understand yet.”

Mana nods sagely. “He’s bad in the sack.”

“Not that kind of adult things.”

“I’m not a child anymore, you know. I know more about the world than you think. I got the news about Kalahan blowing up and I think it’s great.”

Hux purses his lips. “Kalahan was the worst gang leader since the fall of the Empire. Everybody is grateful he is gone.”

“Imagine,” Mana snickers. “He tries to shoot down a tiny little attack ship and the cannon shorts and blows up his whole ship and kills him and his whole gang. I would’ve paid good money to watch that happen.”

Hux awards her a thin smile. “Reliable sources tell me that little attack ship had my ex-boyfriend on board, as well as the most powerful Force wielder in the whole Galaxy, so chances are that short was no coincidence.”

Mana’s eyes widen. “Who was the Force wielder? Master Finn? I hear he was a stormtrooper once.”

“Not the stormtrooper. General Leia Organa.”

“Oh, her. I don’t like her.”

Hux leans back and lets his smile broaden. “Why not?”

“Because she acts like this goody two-shoes, even though she’d be much more badass if she leaned into her powers. If I had her power I would.”

“I have no doubt.”

Mana spoons up more whipped cream and lemon sorbet. “It was only a matter of time before Kalahan kicked the bucket, anyway. Now the path is free for people who actually know what they’re doing to take his place.”

“What are you talking about?”

Mana leans forward, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “So, get that. One of the guys from my former unit has contacted me. He says they’re looking for recruits, trying to form a new band in the outer rim. It’s still a big secret, but they’re getting more money and better weapons every day.”

Hux frowns. “To what end? Is someone trying to establish a new empire again?”

“I don’t know. Right now they’re just trying to boost their ranks and take over some of the old First Order planets that the government hasn’t managed to conquer yet. You know.”

“The last bastions,” Hux says. He has listened to countless rants from Poe about those planets, nearly impossible to reach and often quite well defended. He knows at least a handful of people and old businesses that might reach those planets, but getting in touch with them would have meant getting in touch with his old life. He opted to stay silent. “Do they think they will just fall into the hands of the next best spineless rogue leader who tries to conquer them? We set up those bastions as a last line of defence.”

“According to my contact, they don’t need to conquer them. They have some allies on their side that can make the bastions side with them. Just like that.”

“That would be-” Hux bites his lip. Of course. Several high-ranking officers from the First Order were missing during those trials. He hasn’t seen or heard of them in years, but if the bastions are back on the table it means they must have come back… a shiver runs down his spine. Some of those people he admired. Some he hated. All of them he feared. If they have returned to the playing field, then…

“Come with me.” Mana is still looking at him starry-eyed.

“Where to?”

“Wherever they tell me to go. They know I talk to you and they said they’d love to have you on their side. Imagine. General Hux back in the game. This time you could call all the shots. You still have your old contacts, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. That doesn’t mean I think it’s a good idea to run out into the outer rim at the call of the first no-name who thinks he can stomp an army out of nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Mana insists. She pushes the glass bowl with sorbet away as though she was suddenly too grown-up to eat ice cream. “They have money and weapons. They know what they’re doing. Come on, you don’t want to stay the rest of your life in this dead-end job playing cuck to all those whiners who couldn’t deal with the First Order.”

“Watch your language.”

“Come with me.”

“I never run into a situation without knowing what I am about.” Hux purses his lips. “I’d only awaken my contacts for a group that is worth it, so here is what I need. I need you to prove to me that these people are in fact worthy for me to risk everything, before I make a move. I have no interest in playing with guys who think they’re the big bad but who can’t deliver.”

Mana nods, eyes sparkling. “I’ll ask them, all right?”

“You do that. And one more thing.” He takes a quick stock of their surroundings. The place is too public for anyone to spy on them, but if the wrong person were to overhear them talking here this might end badly for Hux. “Kalahan might be dead, but he still has cronies around who’ll try anything to thwart the next leader. You need to be careful who you trust.”

“I’m not telling anyone, only you.”

“Keep it that way.”

After they have parted ways Hux does not return to Peti, who is still giving him lodge. He takes a tour through the city to make sure every single part of his safety net is still in place. He sends messages to men, women and life forms of indeterminate gender who are rich and powerful enough to buy half the Galaxy should they be so inclined. He sets up meetings with some of the lowest scum who happen to have the best grasp on happenings at the fringes of the Galaxy. For the next three days he barely sleeps. He uses his vacation days that he never uses and his emergency funds to follow every single trace he can find and then to erase every single trace of himself. As far as Peti, Poe and every other person in the light part of the Republic are concerned, he is recharging in a spa on Cloud City.

At the end of his vacation he has all the answers he needs. They make a neat little file that he prints out and stacks in front of him on his hostel room desk to stare down on for several hours while he chews through every option available to him.

If he does what he is planning to do, there will be consequences. Roads will be forever closed to him. He will have to face a part of him he has closed away for so long he never thought he would have to drag it out again. He might risk his own life and the lives of everyone he has met in the past two years. If he chooses the other path, then…

Then he will lose the only man who has ever made him want to be a better person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Netflix now has all Ghibli films (at least here in Germany) which makes me so happy and of course means a rewatch! My first Ghibli film was Nausicaa of the valley of the wind, the perfect movie to start my lifelong love of Ghibli. If you haven't watched it yet and have the chance to, I give it a strong recommend. Such a beautiful film.


	31. 31

The room quietens down when Poe stands up. Twenty-four section leaders look at him, some of them with worry written on their faces, others unsure why he called them here. Two or three cast confused glances at Hux sitting next to An Numa. And then there is Raz Kev, Poe’s chief of security, who is glaring at Hux in open hostility.

“Most of you have already noticed that the Galaxy has turned more dangerous over the past months again,” Poe begins, then jumps into a brief recap of the last attacks on settlements and the defection of several dozens of their reformed stormtroopers.

Raz raises her hand before he has finished. “So when do we start reviving the Resistance?”

“No reviving the Resistance,” Poe responds. “We leave the fighting to Leia. She’s already sent out an intelligence squad. What I need you guys to do is keep an eye on the people you work with. Those gangs call themselves the Red Order, figure that. And apparently they target mostly vulnerable groups; young troopers, people who feel unfairly treated by the Republic, people who’ve lost something with the fall of the First Order. Those are the people you need to keep under observation.”

“So, people like him.” Raz points at Hux, who looks up at her with thinning lips. “That description fits him pretty well, minus the young part. What’s he doing here, anyway?”

“Arm is the one who provided us with most of the information we have,” Poe shoots back. His neck prickles. “That’s why he is part of this meeting, as well.”

“So how’d he get that info?” Raz purses her lips. “I mean, you’d have to be pretty close to old First Order cronies for access to that kind of intel.”

“Is there anything you’d like to accuse me of?” Hux asks, voice calm but with an edge that has Poe’s nerves flare up.

“No accusation necessary,” Raz gripes. “You were already convicted.”

“Is that all you have to say? Yes, I got contacted by former First Order aides because I used to be their general. Yes, I still have clout with supporters who know I could ruin them with a single accusation. None of that should surprise you. That does not warrant your objection to my presence.”

“Arm is here because I invited him here,” Poe says.

“He could be a double spy,” Raz says. Several of the other department heads have begun murmuring. The looks they shoot Hux are anything but friendly.

“If I were a double spy,” Hux hisses, “why would I have brought this information to you?”

“How come you suddenly have all these contacts? Why haven’t we heard of them before?”

“That’s enough.” Poe raises a hand. “Arm is not the one under suspicion right now. Let’s concentrate on the actual issue, please.”

“How do we know he’s not still dangerous?” Raz insists. “Don’t tell me he gets a free pass because he’s your boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Hux corrects.

Raz’s eyebrows shoot up.

Poe flinches back. Was that really necessary? “I know him better than any of you and I am not going to discuss this matter any further. Without Arm we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Is that supposed to make us feel better? What if it’s false intel?”

“All of the intel has been checked and verified. That’s enough, Raz.”

She opens her mouth to argue further, when An Numa stands up from his chair. “What do we do if we suspect someone to have contact with the Red Order? On the site, I mean. Do we report to you? Do we talk to them ourselves?”

“You do not talk to them yourselves. We’re working together with the Jedi Ambassadors and with General Organa to find out more and make sure these people receive adequate support.” Poe nods at the apprentice Finn and Rey have sent in their stead, since they are flying somewhere at the opposite end of the Galaxy searching for leads. “Arrest will be our last resort, but whatever you do, don’t try to solve this yourselves.”

“What if they attack?” Raz asks, eyes still on Hux.

“We hope it won’t come to that. If they do, you fight back however necessary. I’ll make the rounds myself, to get a picture of the situation.”

When Hux delivered the entire stack of data to Poe’s secretary, his first reaction was to wonder how he could have gotten all the intel while obeying his parole rules. Despite two years of watching Hux grow and change right beside him, suspicion had reared its head when Poe had to concede that it wasn’t possible. Hux needed to have contact to people he wasn’t legally allowed to contact.

How easy would it be for him to collude with those people and try to force himself back to power. If he wanted to, the new gangs would add him to their ranks gladly. Instead, he had come to Poe, delivering sensitive intel on persons and organizations Poe and Leia had secretly tracked for months. While some of the pieces were complete news to them, others merely confirmed what they had already been suspecting or puzzling together by themselves. Hux wasn’t lying and he wasn’t trying to double-cross them. The intel was genuine.

Poe decided not to ask how he got it. Judging from the conversation logs Hux had transferred to him, it wasn’t hard to see that the Red Order had tried to woo him. Of course, Hux would be a big fish in any organization following the First Order.

 _Were you tempted?_ Poe wanted to ask him, but even that he could not do.

At the end of the meeting he stays behind, hoping against hope for a chance to talk face-to-face. Four months of separation have not changed that seeing Arm in person nearly took his breath. The pain in his chest remains as immediate as the first day.

But before he can cross the room to suggest maybe a coffee, An Numa has laid a hand on Hux’s arm and leads him outside talking quietly. Within the minute they are gone and leave Poe behind by himself. Even Raz Kev, who has taken longer than the rest to pack up her things, merely casts him a stern glance and walks off.

It’s hopeless. Over lunch Rose calls him up to video chat and talk about the latest intel, but instead of discussing important business, he spends most of the hour crying to her about his latest attempt to get his ex-boyfriend’s attention. Rose half-heartedly tries to soothe him, but people in the honeymoon phase are rotten at consoling broken hearts.

He is going to text Rey. Ask her for the contact info of her cute assistant, the one she assures him is still single. He is going to go out on a date and start a new page in his life. Screw his ex-boyfriend, who clearly wants nothing to do with him anymore.

That night, he receives a text. The first one in four months. Poe nearly drops his smart pad into his risotto.

_Thank you for standing up for me today. For what it’s worth, it felt really nice._

He stares at the text for a full fifteen minutes while the gears in his head turn. Only when he can trust himself not to immediately spam the chat with teary declarations of love, does he type his answer.

_Of course. Without your help we’d still be grasping in the dark._

For minutes, the chat stays silent. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the pinnacle of what he can hope for from now on. A little message, friendly and platonic from time to time and otherwise, silence. He could throw himself into a sarlacc pit, of course. Might make things less painful.

_I am glad you’re okay, by the way. That was no small feat, going after Kalahan._

Poe squeezes his eyes shut.

_You heard._

_Of course I did. It was big on the news._

He leans back. Maybe it’s time to gamble a bit.

_I told Finn, by the way. Everyone knows by now._

_Told FN 2187 about what?_

_Us. You and me. Right that evening. Just so you know, there are no secrets anymore._

Silence again, for too long. He took it too far and now-

_You didn’t have to do that._

_I did. I was being unfair to you. You deserve better._

_Thank you. I am… oddly touched._

_Just so you know_ , Poe types out and goes on before he can stop himself. _As far as I’m concerned there’s the time of our relationship and then there’s everything before that. I can’t forgive you for the whole Galaxy, but neither can I hold a grudge on behalf of the whole Galaxy. Whatever happens in our relationship only concerns you and me. You have been an amazing boyfriend and deserve someone who puts in the same amount of work._

He waits, heart racing. If this doesn’t work-

_Poe, we’re not in a relationship anymore._

Bites his lip so hard he tastes blood.

_I miss you. I miss you so badly I breathe it in and breathe it out and can’t get rid of it. I don’t know how to stop missing you._

The moment he hits send, he drops his head into his arms. The chat stays quiet. He checks every five seconds, then every ten. Then every minute, until he cannot wait any longer and has to go to bed. He keeps checking until he turns off the light. Checks five times during the night and then first thing in the morning. No answer.

Work is gruelling and even worse since several department heads insist on personal meetings. Raz Kev takes up almost his entire afternoon. He promised himself he’d get out and fly today, pay a visit to Finn at the embassy, but instead he stays locked in his office all day trying to deal with the fallout from yesterday’s meeting.

He returns home long after the sun has set. Since he has to eat for one nowadays, he rarely bothers cooking anymore; instead he gets dinner at a soup kitchen between work and home. After last night’s fitful sleep and today’s full schedule, he barely manages to catch a quick shower before sleep demands its due. He drops into bed, checks his messages one last time.

A single chat line.

 _I miss you too_.

He reads it a hundred times over, only stops when it blurs before his eyes. When he lies down on his pillow he realizes he is grinning. It might be nothing. It might be hope. He decides not to press it, puts down his phone and goes to sleep.

The whole next day he clings to those words. He stays off messaging, resists all temptation to push and demand more, waits. At night, another message.

_Can we talk?_

And maybe fate smiles down on him today.

 _Of course_.

_I’m at Redleaf Hillside Park. By the sycamore._

He doesn’t even ask if Poe is available. He doesn’t have to.

_I’m coming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My supervisor apologized for ruining that scholarship for me, that's something. Now I don't have to plot his untimely demise anymore. He also gave me green light to try and get articles published, which he tried to talk me out of last time we spoke. Maybe my name'll be on something non-fanfiction-y next year.


	32. 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally made friends with the landlady's cat. He's a thicc boy, so I bribed him with treats and he started purring like a harley-davidson =^.^=

The sycamore is sprouting fresh green leaves when Poe arrives. After hours of rain the clouds now tear open, blazing in pink and red flames from the setting sun. The ground squishes as Poe walks across the grass towards the bench.

Hux, hair tied back, wearing one of his favourite black turtleneck sweaters, looks up and raises a paper cup. “I bought you coffee.”

It steams when Poe takes it. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to sit down?”

Poe nods, pulse fluttering like that of a young fawn, and sits down on the bench, just far enough apart so they don’t touch. They look out across the city blinking and glistening in the evening sun. A wind rises and chases away the warmth of the day.

“So I started therapy,” Hux says.

Poe does a double take. “You serious?”

“Mhm.” Hux smiles to himself. “I called the number you gave me. Turns out I… I can’t let go of the past as easily as I thought I could.”

“Arm, that’s amazing, that’s- I’m so proud of you.”

Hux looks up, meets his eyes for a moment, then lowers his head again. Red blossoms on his cheeks. “There’s something that was dredged up… a while ago. I still don’t know how to deal with it…”

“What is it?”

Hux bites his bottom lip and now he is just trying to get Poe to break. How can one man be so damn tempting?

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Hux shakes his head, sighs. “It’s… when I was younger, a captain, I had my first mission together with Kylo Ren. I hadn’t met him before, I’d only heard of him. The supreme commander’s own disciple. I felt like I needed to impress him.”

He utters a dry laugh. “Little did I know I’d later grow to despise the man. Anyway, that mission led us to a small colony far in the outer rim. According to the supreme commander’s intel they sheltered several old Rebellion associates. You heard that right, not Resistance. Rebellion.”

He brushes strands of his hair from his face and tucks them behind his ear. His eyes skid from the grass towards the fence, out into the city. “The orders were clear. Wipe out the settlement. Leave no survivors. So that’s what we did, Kylo Ren and I. We were thorough. So thorough, in fact, that it never came up during the trial or anywhere else. No one knew that colony had even existed.”

Poe holds his breath. The trial brought up at least a dozen similar cases. Hearing Hux confess to slaughtering a whole village is hardly news. Something about the way he tells it now, however, makes it so much rawer than all the times before.

“There was a moment, in that place,” Hux continues, still refusing to look at Poe, “when I saw a face peeking out from under the rubble of a collapsed home. A child, a little girl, terrified but alive. I acted like I’d seen nothing, moved the soldiers on. I decided to spare her life. I think I did it to allow myself to feel merciful. Like I had saved someone.”

He lays a hand over his face and hides his eyes. Poe does not move. He cannot give comfort and if he tried anyway, he’d earn himself a slap on the wrist.

“I don’t know if Kylo Ren didn’t sense her life force or if maybe he was moved by the same stupid sentiment that I was. Anyway, she survived and for years afterwards I did not pay her or the settlement a single thought. I honestly had forgotten all about it.” Hux lowers his hand and takes a deep breath. “Until someone found the girl.”

Inadvertently, Poe raises his hand to reach out to him. He stops himself halfway and drops it. “Who did?”

“Someone who rose to power in the ruins of the First Order. And he threatened me. He promised he’d make the story known. If he did, he could have caused the case to be reopened. Send me back to jail. I didn’t…” Hux turns and looks at Poe, albeit only at his hands around the coffee cup. “The whole thing with you and FN 2187 gave me an excuse. I didn’t want to drag you back into that mess, make you wait another couple of years until I returned from prison.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit hasty? No one has come forward yet.”

“I also didn’t want to see the look on your face when news surfaced of another village. Another heap of dead bodies.”

“Arm.”

Hux looks up.

“Am I happy about it? No. But I know who you are, I’ve always known. You think that shit still fazes me now?”

“There’s more.”

“Of course there is.”

“They threatened you. They knew you and I were involved and they threatened to go after you if I didn’t fall in line.”

“That’s it?” Poe snorts. “Have you forgotten who I am? I’m the ace pilot. I’m a god with a blaster. They’d never even get close to me. Arm, I can take care of myself, you have to trust me.”

His heart sings. They can salvage this. All his hope wasn’t in vain if only Hux realizes that none of those factors warrant a breakup…

“It’s moot now, anyway.” Hux links his hands. “He is dead.”

“The one who threatened you?” _Oh no_. “Arm, did you-”

“It was Kalahan.”

“Oh.” The fear lifts. “Kalahan.”

“Yes. You did.”

A grin splits Poe’s face. “We did, didn’t we? We got rid of that son of a bitch. Well, Leia did.”

Hux nods. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am. I don’t think we should let our guards down completely, but at least there doesn’t seem to be any threat from his side anymore.”

“I told you, we can deal with that.” Poe downs half his coffee, feeling light as a feather all of a sudden. “Hey, do you think you want to meet her?”

“Who, Organa? Most certainly not; she’d probably crush my teeth in.”

“Not Leia. The girl. She must be a young woman by now. The one from the settlement.” Hux frowns at him. “Maybe it helps if you meet her face to face. We can see if we find her.”

“No.” Hux pauses for a moment, fingers kneading, lips pursed. “That’s not something she should have to shoulder, just so I can feel better about myself.”

Poe waits.

“I am… the last couple of years the only reason I managed to make myself go on was by hating Snoke. I hated him for what he did to me, for what he made me do, for the role he played in everything. If he hadn’t been…” Hux shakes his head. “Maybe it’s a lie, but I tell myself that because he was as bad as he was, now that I am rid of him I can be… better.” He barks out a cold laugh. When Poe refuses to laugh along, he takes a deep breath. “That girl… she lost everything. We took it from her. She has a right to hate us without ever having to question that hate.”

He bats his eyes and chances a quick glance up at Poe’s face. “She should be allowed to hate me without ever meeting me and having to contemplate forgiveness.”

Unthinking, Poe moves forward and presses against Hux’s lips with a kiss. For a heartbeat Hux stiffens. Then he huffs and softens, melting into Poe grabbing him, pulling him closer.

All Poe wants to do is kiss him and never let go. Warm fingers bury into his curls while Hux tilts his head and fits them closer together. It’s perfect. It’s home.

When they break, they stay close, foreheads touching, Hux’s hand still in Poe’s neck, Poe’s fingers curled around Hux’s cheeks, breath mingling. Hux laughs silently.

“Can you please come home?” Poe whispers. “You’ve made your point. I’ll switch over to the dark side, I don’t care anymore.”

Chuckling, Hux nods. “Let’s go home.”

They don’t stand up quite yet. Instead, Hux finds Poe’s mouth again, turns warm, gentle kisses into urgent ones, barely restrained. In between kisses, they whisper to each other, morsels of confessions and promises that Poe thinks might sustain him just long enough for the way from the park back to the flat.


	33. 33

After a week of cruising space to visit all his associate places and only come back for quick snuggles with his boyfriend-then-ex-boyfriend-now-boyfriend-again and one business dinner, nothing compares to relaxing the evening on the couch, mugs of hot chocolate on the table, Hux huddled into cuddle shape next to him. The TV delivers the news on low volume and Poe rubs his head against Hux’s shoulder, giving him little kisses on his jaw. Hux, attention on the TV, does his best not to smile.

The moment the news anchor switches over to weather, Hux turns it off. “All right, tiger. We’ve got a whole evening to ourselves. What do you want to do?”

“Mmh.” Poe lifts his head and presses his lips against soft cheek skin. “Kiss you.”

“You’re doing that already.”

“Kiss you more.”

Hux turns his head and offers his mouth. Opens up obediently and meets Poe’s tongue.

“And then?” he whispers as Poe’s hands wander underneath his shirt and find his nipples hardening fast.

“Hmm, I don’t know. It depends.” Poe tilts his head, nearly devouring Hux’s mouth, nibbling at his lips.

“Depends on what?” Hux pulls him on top of himself and stretches out on the couch. One hands sneaks beyond Poe’s belt and grabs his arse.

“Depends on how good you’ve been today.”

“Oh.” Hux exhales on a snicker. “The worst.”

“Oh yeah?” Smiling, Poe rubs against Hux’s thighs, letting the prickles of his arousal guide him.

“Yeah. Commanded my dark forces. Conspired to overthrow the government. Delighted in shooting rebels, it made me positively ecstatic.”

“Ecstatic, huh? Bad General Hux.” Poe pulls down trousers and boxers and lands a gentle smack on his boyfriend’s buttocks. “Don’t tell me you’ve been contemplating building Starkillers again.”

“Hundreds,” Hux purrs and gasps when Poe smacks him again. “I plan to use them to wipe out all those rebel scum that- oooh.”

Poe grinds harder, slaps his hand against Hux’s warming flesh, trailing sloppy kisses along his throat. “However will I punish your horrible deeds, General?”

“Oh nooo, Commander, whatever you do, don’t punish me with your rock-hard, big, fat co-”

Hux chokes on the last word. When Poe looks at him in confusion, his eyes have widened and stare at something behind Poe. He turns around.

Behind the backrest of the couch stands Finn, face slack in horror.

Poe shoots upwards. Shock drains all arousal from him and leaves him speechless. Behind Finn Rey stands, looking no less appalled. The front door is open, even though Poe could have sworn they closed and locked it when they came home.

“What-” His voice squeaks. He coughs and tries again. “What are you doing here?”

“We, er, we came to, er, keep you company,” Finn stutters, eyes flitting from Poe to Hux who has pulled up his trousers and pulled down his sweater and sat up. “Key.” He holds up the key Poe gave him ages ago for emergencies.

“We were gone for a week,” Rey offers a bit more coherently. “We thought we’d surprise you and, erm, keep you company for an evening. You know, to make sure you weren’t lonely.” She peers at Hux, then at Poe again, and raises the bottle she is holding. “We brought you wine.”

“Thanks.” Poe brushes both hands through his curls. “You should have called.”

“Erm, I can see that.” Finn still does his best to avoid looking directly at Hux. “So are you two back together or…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we are. Since last week. Sorry, you were gone, otherwise I’d have told you.”

“Oh,” Rey says in a high voice. “No, that’s alright… we should have- we should have called…”

Silence falls, pregnant with an awkwardness that makes Poe want to lie down and pull a blanket over his head.

“So,” Rey says.

“So,” Poe echoes. “Well, you wanted to meet my boyfriend. Here we are.”

“Right.” Finn coughs, louder and longer than would technically be necessary. Then he straightens his back and stretches out his hand as we walks up to Hux, who has stood from the couch, looking wary. “Hi. I go by Finn now.”

Hux looks down at the hand offered to him, then at Finn’s face, eyes trailing just below Hux’s chin.

Poe closes his eyes. _I beg of you, Arm, call him Finn. I love you but please don’t ruin this, please_.

“Finn,” Hux says with the hint of a smile and grasps the hand offered to him. “It’s good to see you.”

Finn’s jaw drops. He recovers quickly, squeezes the hand, then looks at Poe with an expression that says both _I can’t believe you’re dating this man_ and _I might be okay with it_.

“Do you want to stay?” Poe asks after Rey has finished her introduction. “We’ve eaten already, but we can chat for a bit.”

Rey looks at Finn, who looks at Rey. Eyebrows wiggle. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out they are communicating telepathically. While normally Poe would tell them off for being rude, today he decides to be gracious.

“Absolutely,” Rey then declares. “Here, have the wine. We wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

“Thank you.” Hux takes the bottle from her hands, then looks at Poe. “We still have the garlic knots from the dinner party yesterday.”

“Right. We can heat them up.”

“Garlic knots.” Finn follows them over to the kitchen counter. “Dinner party. You had a dinner party without us?”

“Not us.” Poe takes out wine glasses while Hux fetches the box with garlic knots and switches on the oven. “A couple of business associates Arm has brought on board. Now that the threat levels are rising we decided it would be wise to invest in a better defence force.”

“Business associates,” Rey repeats, frowning. “Who would be willing to pledge that sort of money?”

“People rich enough to fund the entire First Order fleet,” Hux responds, voice smooth. “Who incidentally don’t want to piss me off to a degree that I might expose their actions to the Galaxy. It has been hugely fruitful.”

Finn nods. “I remember those guys visiting the Starkiller. Always wondered what I could do if I knew the dirt on them.”

“Well, we’re about to find out.” Hux slides the tray with pastries into the oven.

“What do you do if they decide to kill you instead?” Rey asks. “Genuine question.”

“Valid question.” Hux turns around, leans against the cupboard next to the oven, and purses his lips. “They wouldn’t dare. I have safety measures in place that they know about and safety measures they can only guess. If I die nothing will keep them protected, so they happen to have a vested interested in keeping me alive and well.”

“All right.” Poe claps his hands. “That’s enough shop talk. We’re not here to discuss business, so let’s turn to more pleasant things than theorizing about my boyfriend dying.”

“Are you sure?” Rey asks. “Because we’re still desperately trying to gloss over the position we found you both in when we came through the door.”

Hux turns away. Finn gawks at his wife.

“Oh, come on,” Poe says. “As if you’d never played stormtrooper and captured Resistance fighter before.”

Finn turns his shocked and betrayed stare at Poe. Rey turns to her husband, eyes blazing. “You told him!”

“I was lonely,” he defends himself. “You were gone on mission for two weeks and I was missing you and a little bit drunk.”

She closes her eyes and leans backwards. “Brilliant.”

“So,” Hux inquires quietly, “genuine question. Which one was the stormtrooper?”

Without looking at her, Finn points at Rey. Head lowered, she raises her hand.

“Ah,” Hux says in the same gentle tone. “It figures.”

Poe fights between equal urges to hurl and to laugh.

As the oven dings, Hux moves to open it. “The spring nights have turned quite pleasant. We might want to move this to the terrace.”

“The seat cushions are still in storage,” Poe says. “I’ll go get them.”

“No need. I brought them up yesterday when I was having breakfast on the terrace.”

The look Finn and Rey exchange does not escape Poe. As though those two had a monopoly on domesticity.

“Off you go.” He shoos them towards the terrace doors. “Also, Finn, I’m gonna need that key back. Or at least a promise that you won’t enter again before trying the doorbell first.”

Finn snorts. “Oh, I have learned my lesson.”

***

He should have come clean ages ago. Now they are sitting out here, sipping wine with Poe and Hux, of all people, acting like none of this is weird. When Poe admitted to having dated Hux, Finn was secretly relieved to know it had ended. Not because of what Hux was, but because of what he knows. Hux being back in the picture means the danger being back on the table – and if there is one person in the Galaxy Finn does not want to be indebted to, it is this man.

“It describes a manoeuvre that only one pilot back in the Rebellion managed to pull off,” Poe rambles on about an old book he has found in one of the settlements. “I’ve tried to copy it, but I think there is something about the compressor that throttles my thrust.”

“Show it to me,” Rey offers. “Maybe I can tweak the racer.”

“Promise me you won’t damage it.”

She casts him an off-hand laugh and stands up. “Show me the book and I’ll tell you if you can pull it off without damaging it yourself.”

Poe leads her to his shelf of memorabilia and a couple of old tomes, leaving Finn with Hux alone on the terrace. Silence covers them like a dusty blanket. Finn keeps his breath flat, too nervous to look up or reach for his wine or even eat one of the garlic knots that, admittedly, smell amazing.

“You should relax,” Hux offers in an oddly smooth tone Finn has never heard on him before. He has to admit, Poe has done wonders with the former general. He seems positively relaxed and content. “As long as you don’t dredge up old stories, I see no reason why I should. I must admit, though, I’d have expected them to know by now.”

“Could hardly tell them, could I.” Finn leans forward and grabs his wine glass, mostly to have something to do.

“Think they won’t accept you anymore once they know?”

“It’s not like I committed any serious crimes. If I choose to keep parts of my life private, that’s my decision.”

“Absolutely,” Hux agrees. “Why so nervous, then?”

For the first time Finn looks up and meets his eyes straight on. Part of him returns to the stormtrooper he used to be, terrified of this man who condemned so many of them to death so easily. The other part struggles to reconcile the general he used to know with the peaceful man sitting opposite him, a smile playing around his lips.

“Why haven’t you told Poe already?” he challenges.

Hux holds his stare for a moment, then he looks away. “Why should I? It’s none of my business.”

“You’re right, it’s not.”

“Heard anything of your ex-boyfriend recently? If he contacted anyone I figure you’d be a safer bet than his mother. She looks like the kind of woman who would rip out his spine and whip him with it, after all.”

“He’s gone,” Finn spits out. Poe and Rey are still standing inside, debating over pages in an old book. “And I don’t think he’s coming back, so no need to mention him at all.”

“Like I said, I have no interest in the affair, anyway.”

“Good.” Finn grinds his teeth.

Hux’s eyes move from the table to a spot behind Finn and the smile on his lips widens. “It’s hard to imagine his reaction, anyway.”

That is when it dawns on Finn that Hux is watching Poe. He allows himself to relax long enough to study the smile on his face. It seems positively genuine.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he starts and when Hux raises an eyebrow at him, continues, “Why him? I mean, he kind of explained to me how he ended up with you, but you had just as much reason to hate him. What made you choose Poe?”

Hux blinks. His eyes flit back to Poe, then settle on Finn. For a minute he does not answer, long enough for Finn to think he’ll refuse to explain, but then he sighs.

“I suppose… it’s because when the whole Galaxy hated me to the point that I thought I’d be better off dead, he made me feel like I was still worth something.”

It is easy enough to pick up the emotional current flowing under his words. Finn does not mind-read, but his senses are sharper than those of non-Force sensitives. Thoughts and emotions accompanying someone’s statements flit through his consciousness and reveal much more than mere words could.

He exhales sharply when the truth of what Hux just said hits him. “When you thought you’d…”

Hux does not answer, but holds Finn’s gaze.

“You wanted to…” It changes everything in his perception of the former general. “And you decided not to because of Poe… does he know?”

“No.” Hux’s voice is absolute. “And neither is he ever going to learn about this, are we clear?”

Lips pressed together Finn looks at him. Finally, he nods. “I won’t tell, but why did you answer if you didn’t want him to know?”

“Because now,” Hux says softly, “you have assurance that I have an interest in keeping your secret.”

Before Finn can answer to that, Rey and Poe return.

“We have to take the racer for a quick spin,” she announces. “We’ll be back in an hour or two.”

Finn jumps from the chair as though bitten by a snake. “You want to leave us here for an hour?”

Ten minutes was bearable. An hour will be anything but.

“You could tag along,” Poe suggests.

“Why does it have to be now?” Finn whines. “It’s late and dark outside, anyway. Can’t you do it tomorrow?”

“Nope. I have to know if it works.” Rey is already pulling on her jacket. “Be back in a jiffy.”

They are gone before Finn can stop them.

“Leave it,” Hux says when he calls after them. “They are in flight fever. Only flying will cure them.”

Finn drops back into his chair, defeated. “Great. This is gonna be fun.”

“Since I’ve got you here, I actually have a question for you,” Hux says.

Finn levels him with a suspicious squint. “Okay.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Leave what?”

“You know what. You weren’t the only stormtrooper unhappy with the First Order, but you certainly were the only one who launched an escape like that. Poe tried to explain it to me once, but I’m fairly certain he had no idea.”

Finn blows out his breath between his teeth. “Huh.” And then it hits him. He has replayed this conversation in his mind a thousand times, not always with Hux, sometimes with Phasma, sometimes with Kylo Ren, always with a high-ranking First Order officer. He never expected to have the actual opportunity to say it.

He looks up and meets Hux’s eyes with a wide grin. “Buckle up, then. I am going to explain to you exactly and in great detail all the reasons I realized the First Order was shit and why I had to get out of there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanted a walk-in scene, so here you go :P


	34. 34

“So you haven’t heard from her since,” Poe says. He watches the people outside the restaurant pass by. Two men enter and sit down at the counter. “Do you think she has really left?”

Hux stabs the last bite of steak with his fork. “I’ve had several extensive talks with her foster parents. She hasn’t managed to steal away yet, but she refuses to speak with me. Apparently she doesn’t take the betrayal too well.”

“Were you tempted?” Poe asks. He leans back and refuses to let his paranoia get the better of him when the waitress passes their table the third time without obvious goal. Ever since they have heightened their security, the simplest movements by people around him make him nervous.

Hux quirks an eyebrow. “Tempted.”

“Yeah. You know, to follow her invitation. You must have thought about it.”

“That’s not why I played interested in what she proposed.”

“Sure, but I mean, if everything that girl told you is true, they have already gathered more firepower than we estimated”

“Most likely an exaggeration.”

“Even so. It’s probably more than we could ever offer you.”

“Is that what you think?” Hux leans back.

Tonight is the first night in two weeks that they have time to enjoy each other’s company. For days Poe rarely managed to come home. New investor money meant more opportunities to protect the communities they have built, but also higher visibility. He has personally flown to every one of their project sites to make sure they are well protected.

“I don’t want to lose you to a bunch of rogues who seduce you with big ships and a good position.”

Hux snorts. “You really think me that impressionable? I haven’t spent the last two and a half years and before that five years in prison building this life to throw it away for another organization that has no qualms slitting my throat if they ever decide they don’t need me anymore.”

Poe reaches out with his hand and covers Hux’s palm. “Promise me you won’t go and leave me behind.”

“What about you?” Hux cocks his head. “If the fight calls for you, will you be able to resist?”

“I don’t think it will come to that. It’s just rogue bands and Leia can take care of those.” When Hux’s fingers in his flex, Poe squeezes. “Now tell me what you want to do with the rest of the night.”

“Well, there’s always the Droid Championship…”

“You’d go there with me? Isn’t it too late already?”

“They’ve started, yes. By now the easiest, boring fights should be over and the real fun begins.”

Poe grins at his boyfriend. “Do you know who’s fighting today?”

“It’s the flight M class. Might be interesting.”

“Brilliant.” He jumps up without letting go of Hux’s hand. “Let’s go.”

They walk the short way to the stadium. The streets are still bustling with people, street vendors yelling out products, their diverse clientele chattering with each other and haggling over prices. For a few minutes Poe enjoys walking hand in hand, breathing in the warm night air.

They have rounded the third corner, when his suspicion first rears his head. His eyes fall onto the side mirror of a laden cart, then onto a blackened out shop window. He moves them from reflection to reflection. Two streets later he knows his suspicions are true.

“Arm.”

“I know.” Hux’s voice has tensed. He does not look at Poe and speaks barely above a whisper. “We are being followed.”

The two men who entered the restaurant when they were almost done walk a couple of paces behind them, close enough to stay on their tail, but not close enough to make out more than their outlines.

“We need to get rid of them,” Poe mutters.

“It’s only two. We could confront them.”

“How?”

“Follow me.”

Hux drags him into a narrow side alley that is empty except for a bunch of rats scurrying away as they approach. He crowds Poe into the wall and leans into him.

“Act like we’re on a date,” he breathes into his ear. “Follow my lead and kiss me.”

Despite the circumstances Poe can’t help but huff out a laugh. Hux is in war mode, which means that the sentimental part of his brain has shut down completely.

“Arm,” he mumbles, mouth on Hux’s, “we’re boyfriends. We do not act like we’re on a date; that’s literally what is going on.”

“Right.” Hux seals his lips and shuts him up.

For a moment Poe’s eyes flutter close. When he opens them again, the two men round the corner into the alley. At least one of them is carrying a blaster in his hand. Quick as lightning, Poe’s fingers close around his own blaster, draw, and shoot. The man on the left stumbles backwards, clasps both hands to his side and drops with a cry.

Hux steps aside as Poe stomps forward, blaster aimed at the second man. He takes one look at his downed comrade and backs away, turns, and flees.

“Blast,” Poe curses.

He holsters his blaster and sets out after the running man, Hux on his heels. They dive back into the busy main street, jump across a cart with green melons, and duck into the next alley. The man zigzags between high buildings towards a wall. Before the wall, his ride is waiting with a woman in helmet on the seat.

“Stop!” Poe yells as the man skids to a halt in front of the hover bike. “Don’t move!”

The man turns around. The woman passes him something; a little silver box. He raises the box.

“See you in hell, traitor!”

A wall of fire erupts from the box, explodes hover bike and their two assailants, and roars along the narrow building walls. Shock transfixes Poe on the spot.

“Poe!”

Hands grab him and yank him down. A heavy body collides with his and wrestles him to the ground, landing above him. Heat passes over his head, the ground tremors, and a roar deafens his ears.

Droning silence fills the world. Poe’s head pounds with pain from hitting the street. He tries to move, but Hux has grown heavy on him. Too heavy. Then comes the blood.

He rolls Hux off of himself and sits up. Aside from the fall he is unhurt, yet his clothes are stained red.

“Arm.”

People come closer, crying all over each other. The voices sound muffled in his ear. He tries to focus on Hux lying on the street, unmoving. The fire has scorched away his clothes. Shrapnel from the bike has left deep furrows into the skin on his back. No matter how hard Poe shakes him, he does not move.

Fear dribbles into his dazed mind.

“Arm.”

The people come closer, murmuring to each other.

“Arm, wake up!” He shakes him harder. “Wake up, come on!”

Not even a flinch. Panic chokes him, turns his vision red. He presses a hand against Hux’s cheek, thoughts a mess, trying to force himself to think, what to do, wake him up, how to wake him up, he won’t-

A hand settles on his shoulder. “We have called an ambulance. Are you all right?”

Ambulance. Poe shakes his head, gathers the lifeless Hux up in his arms and presses his face into Hux’s shoulder. “Nonono, wake up, please, wake up, don’t leave me here, you idiot, why’d you do that, please no…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, you didn't think we were done with the angst, did you?


	35. 35

Finn finds him in the hospital, pacing the waiting room, tears still running down his face.

“Where is he?”

“Surgery,” Poe chokes out. “They haven’t told me anything yet.”

Finn grabs his shoulders and forces him to stand still. “He’s not dead.”

Poe shakes his head, chest heaving. Sobs break free, so harsh he cannot breathe anymore.

Finn pulls him into his arms. For minutes, all Poe can do is cry and allow Finn to hold him tight, stroking his back and muttering to him.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Finn whispers. “They’ll patch him up. It’s all going to be all right.”

“I didn’t react,” Poe finally blubbers. “I didn’t react in time and he pulled me down. If it hadn’t been for me- I killed him, Finn, I got him killed!”

“He’s not dead yet.” Finn’s strong hand rubs a bit of strength back into his shoulders. “We caught the other guy, the one you shot down first. He’s in holding right now. It’s gonna be a while until they’re done with the surgery. How about you and me take a trip to jail and have a little chat with that guy?”

Poe sniffs. “The other two…”

“Dead. The explosion killed them. They must have planned to sacrifice themselves.”

“Why did it end like this,” Poe whispers, throat raw. “We had such a good night and now…”

Finn holds him through another fit of sobs. “He’s gonna recover, trust me. No matter what you throw at him, that dude will not die.”

Poe squeezes his eyes shut.

“Come on. An interrogation will take your mind off the surgery. There’s nothing you can do right now, anyway.”

Finally, he nods and pushes himself upright. A trip to the bathroom and a few splashes of cold water later he almost feels ready to human again. Finn gently manhandles him to the car and drives them to the station.

The man is waiting in the interrogation room for them, handcuffed to the desk. Finn pulls out a chair for Poe before he sits down. Their prisoner refuses to acknowledge their presence.

“Why did you follow us?” Poe jumps right into the core of the matter. “Who told you to target us?”

The guy snorts. “Where’s your boyfriend? Bite the dust already?”

A second before Poe can jump up and strangle the guy, Finn pulls him back down.

“You tried to kill him!” Poe yells. “You fucking murderers, if I find out who’s responsible for this-”

“That’s enough,” Finn says in his Jedi voice. “Sit back down, Poe. Let’s try this again. Do you know who I am?”

The man shrugs.

“I am Finn. Formerly FN 2187. I was a stormtrooper with the First Order.”

“I’ve heard of you,” the man grumbles. “Yer a traitor.”

“Some like to call me that,” Finn agrees calmly. “But once I got out I realized how abusive the First Order had been. Is anyone forcing you to fight?”

“Nobody is forcing me to do nothing. I’m not a traitor like you.”

“They wanted you to kill yourself to attack my friend Poe here. I’d call that abusive.”

The man snorts again. His eyes flicker to Poe, then return to Finn. “You have no idea what this is about.”

“Well, we know about the Red Order. We even have the names of your leaders.” Finn lists every single name their recon troops and Hux have made available to them. The man’s expression barely changes, but from time to time a muscle in his cheek twitches.

“You think you know us because of a handful of names?” he then sneers. “You have no idea what’s coming.”

“I got a pretty good idea.” How Finn manages to stay this calm Poe will never know. “Let me guess. Planet-killing weapons, troopers, big ships. We’ve seen all of that. You could help us prevent the death of many people by telling us where your leaders are hiding.”

“Are you shitting me?” the guy bellows. “You think I’ll just sit here and tell you shit about my order? Go fuck yourself!”

“I didn’t think so.” Finn stands up. “Thank you for your time.”

As he turns towards the door, Poe stays in his chair, glaring at the man. Never before has his urge to hurt someone been this strong. Somebody should pay for what they did to Arm.

“Poe.”

He looks up. Finn is signalling him with jerks of his head to leave the room. He follows, going against the anger churning in his guts.

“That was a fucking waste of time,” he gripes the moment the door has fallen shut behind them. “Why’d you leave already?”

“We got everything we need,” Finn answers and leads him into an empty room. “They didn’t target you, their target has been Hux from the beginning. Apparently someone higher up really didn’t like that he led them on and then handed over information on their leaders to the Republic.

“What was interesting is that apparently they’ve been around for longer than we assumed they’d be. Originally, they were part of the First Order, before it even called itself the First Order. They split before the First Order came to power, waited in the shadows until they exhausted themselves, and then picked up their leftovers. A lot of it seems to be rooted in the same principles, but they have a lot more going on than we originally realized. Even Hux only scratched the surface. This guy knows little, but there seems to be money involved and some elder beings that I really don’t want to cross paths with. It might be wise to adjust our strategies.”

Poe stares at Finn, mouth agape. “When did he tell us any of that?”

Finn shrugs, a sheepish look on his face. “It’s a Jedi technique. It’s not mind-reading, but picking up stuff that goes through their thoughts while they talk. A bit like residue. I simply directed his thoughts to the things I wanted to know and then let him talk around the stuff he really wanted to say. The more he tried to keep the truth from us, the harder he thought about the truth. Made things really easy.”

A hint of fear sneaks into Poe’s stomach. “When have you learned to do that?”

“Relax, I don’t do it with you.” Finn pulls out his smart pad and starts typing. “It’s a much nicer technique than crude mind-reading and the great thing is, the other person doesn’t feel it, but I would never do it to my friends.”

“I don’t like that at all. Can Rey do that as well?”

“Not as good as I can. But then, she has powers I could never even dream of.”

“Promise me you’ll never do that to me.”

“Of course.” Finn looks up. “No mind-reading my friends, promise.”

“I don’t want that mind control shit anywhere near me.”

“If I’d ever tried that on you, I’d have known about Hux and you, which I didn’t, so you should know you’re safe with me.” He stows his pad away. “I’m done with my notes. I’ll get these to Leia as quickly as possible. Do you want me to drop you off at the hospital?”

“Yeah.” Poe keeps a wary eye on Finn as they return to the car. Too much has happened tonight. The idea that his best friend could read his thoughts without him realizing it does not fill him with confidence.

***

In the early morning, a nurse finally comes up to Poe. “He is waking up. Would you like to see him?”

Poe jumps from his sleeping position, huddled together on a couch in the waiting room, and follows her. “How did the surgery go?”

“We have removed all the shrapnel from his skin and closed the wounds. He has spent a couple of hours in the healing tank. The attack has damaged large parts of his skin, but he should recover.”

Poe swallows around the lump in his throat. “Thank you.”

She leads him into a room with a single bed. Lying on his side, his entire back covered in med packs, is Hux, red hair fanned out on the pillow, breathing slowly. An IV line connects to his arm.

“Hey,” Poe whispers. He slowly comes closer and sits down in the chair next to the bed.

Hux is even paler than usually. Dark shadows lie over his closed eyes. In the light blue hospital gown he looks frail like a small child.

“Arm.” Poe lays a hand to his cheek, feverishly hot. His throat closes up, his fingers tremble.

Hux’s lids flutter, then open. For a few heartbeats Hux merely stares at Poe, eyes swimming.

“Hey there.” His sight blurs as new tears shoot into Poe’s eyes. He smiles down at his boyfriend.

“To the station,” Hux croaks. “They’re on D’Qar. We’ll wipe them out this time.”

Poe bends down. “Sweetie, are you all right?”

“Oh,” the nurse says. “He is on pain medication, quite a lot. He might be a bit out of it for a couple of days.”

“Arm,” Poe whispers. “Do you know who I am?”

Hux blinks. “Rebel scum.”

“That’s right.” Through his tears Poe chuckles. “It’s me, your boyfriend. The one whose life you just saved.”

Hux’s eyes flutter close again. Poe keeps stroking his cheek.

“Will there be any lasting damage?” he asks the nurse.

“Scars, most likely, but he was lucky. His spine is undamaged. He should make a full recovery.”

Poe bites his lips and nods. “Thank you.”

“You should rest. We will take good care of him.”

On the bed, Hux frowns. “No, no, don’t do that. I don’t even like black beans.”

Smiling, Poe leans closer. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

“No, first you cook the rice, then you add the egg. If you put it in first it will burn… take the vinegar and…” the rest gets lost in mumble. Soon Hux falls silent, his breath growing slower.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Poe whispers. He bends down and presses a kiss against Hux’s temple. “You rest. I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the waifu, the morphine-induced ramblings were pretty realistic. I was just trying to be cute...


	36. 36

“You’re messing with me,” Hux says, leaning back into a tower of soft pillows. He still looks a bit pale around the nose, but his eyes are as sharp as ever. “I did not say any of that.”

“You did,” Poe assures him, grinning. “You also called me rebel scum every day when I walked into your room for the whole week.”

His heart is singing. Watching Hux heal under his eyes calmed most of his initial anxiety, but the constant confusion and the incoherent mumbling left him feeling lost. Even though the nurses assured him that it was only the medication, part of him stayed afraid that he would remain that way.

“Well, you are,” Hux grumbles and tugs at his blanket. “Take it as a term of endearment.”

“I did.” He picks up the hand Hux uses to fidget with the sheets and presses a kiss into the palm. “You can call me whatever you want, after you almost threw your own life away to save mine, honey.”

Hux’s face goes slack in horror. “I did no such thing.”

“You sure did.”

“I did not try to save your life. I must have stumbled. I don’t remember, but I probably stumbled and crashed into you or something.”

“You yelled out my name and wrapped both arms around me to pull me down. I refuse to believe you had anything in mind other than my safety.”

“I don’t save lives.”

“Well you did save mine.” When Hux shudders, Poe kisses his hand again. “Stop fighting it. You love me and you want me to be safe. It’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. No reason for you to be embarrassed.”

“Let’s change the subject,” Hux pleads, turning a bit green around the nose. “Have you avenged my near untimely death?”

“There wasn’t much to do. The two attackers blew themselves up. The third one is in jail. We’re following the trails Finn found during his interrogation. Leia is actually considering a larger quest into the Unknown Regions to shut down those assholes once and for all, you know, before they become a real nuisance.”

Hux pierces him with a sharp glance. “A larger quest.”

“Yeah, you know. Not just a couple of recon ships, but a proper fleet. Turn it into another mission and take them down.”

“Uh-huh. And how long would a mission like that take?”

Poe shrugs, as innocently as possible. “A couple of months? A year or so? It depends on what we find, I guess.”

“We,” Hux repeats. “Poe, you’re not thinking about joining her, are you?”

He gives his boyfriend a sheepish grin. “Not seriously, no. But it wouldn’t be too bad, would it? I mean, if Leia needs me…”

“You’ve got a job and a life here. You’re not part of her fleet anymore, so leave the fighting to others.”

“Don’t you want to take a look? You’ve been to the Unknown Regions, haven’t you?”

“I have and I have no desire to ever return there. Don’t do this, Poe. I don’t want to get embroiled into another war that will take who knows how long.”

Poe shakes his head and strokes his hand along Hux’s cheek. “Stop fretting. It’s just a consideration. Leia doesn’t even know yet what she wants to do, so let’s not jump to an argument that might be moot anyway. Right now I’m here only for you, sweetheart.”

“Great,” Hux grumbles. “Then you can get me a cup of coffee. I’ve been dying for one.”

Poe raises his eyebrows. “Have the nurses given green light for coffee?”

“Sure. Why shouldn’t they?”

“Because you’re recovering from a terrible wound and still on all kinds of medication. Have you asked them?”

Hux shrugs, letting his eyes skid over the blanket. “No need to ask them, really. They probably don’t care.”

“Tsk-tsk.” Poe pats his cheek. “I’ll go and ask them and if they say it’s okay I’m gonna bring you the best coffee I can find. You sit tight, big boy.”

Hux harrumphs when Poe stands up and leaves the room. Grinning, he makes his way to the nurse’s station. In front of the door stands the Jedi apprentice Finn has designated to Hux’s protection after they learned that the Red Order had targeted Hux, not Poe. He is arguing with a girl, long black hair and a fierce scowl on her face.

“I’m not trying to hurt him, I just want to talk to him,” she insists while the padawan shakes his hair with a frown.

“You’re unsettled. I can’t let you in there as long as you give off those bad vibes.”

“I’m his friend.”

“Hi.” Poe waves his hand at her. “Can I help you?”

She turns to him. Her eyes widen. “You’re the boyfriend.”

The boyfriend. Not Poe Dameron, saviour of the Galaxy. Not ace pilot, daredevil, racing champion. No, the boyfriend.

“You’re Mana, aren’t you?” he asks. “Arm’s friend who spent six years with a rogue gang.”

Her lips thin, but she nods curtly. “I want to see him.”

“Hm, don’t take this the wrong way, but that might be difficult, considering you’ve been trying to join another gang of criminals and those same criminals nearly killed Arm after he refused to help you.”

Her expression falters. The scowl softens and her eyes widen. Suddenly she looks close to tears. “I didn’t… I didn’t know they were going to do that.”

Poe looks at the padawan, but it does not take a Jedi to know she is telling the truth.

“I never wanted him to get hurt.”

The anger in his chest softens a bit. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“He was the only one who understood me when I landed here.”

Poe nods. “Listen, this nice young man here is going to check you for weapons, okay? And if you’re clean I can check with Arm if he’s willing to see you. I’ll have to stay in the room with you, to keep him safe, but you can talk to him. How does that sound?”

She blinks and nods.

The padawan moves a hand down her body from ten centimetres away, then gives Poe a thumbs up.

“All right, follow me.” As she sets out towards Hux’s room, Poe holds up his hand. “Actually, give me a second.” He sticks his head into the nurse’s station. “Hi there. So the patient wants coffee and I wanted to check with you if he was okay to drink that.”

The nurse shakes her head in horror. “No coffee. No black tea, either, not with his kind of injury. He can have herbal tea, let me show you.”

Poe suppresses a grin as he follows her to the tea dispenser. “He’ll be so happy to know you’re concerned for his health.”

The nurse nods stiffly. “That’s not the impression we had of him, but sure. Let’s go with that.”

Poe laughs. “He’s got a prickly exterior. Don’t let that scare you off; his insides are soft and sweet like strawberry jam.”

“We’ll have to take your word on that.” She hands him a steaming cup. “There you go. Don’t overdo the tea, either, though. Two cups a day.”

Armed with tea and the young woman in his trail, Poe returns to Hux’s room.

“Knock-knock.”

“You can’t say that and enter at the same time,” Hux says surly, but then his face lights up when he sees the cup. “They said yes?”

“Nope, you bad boy, of course they didn’t and shame on you for trying to trick me and abuse me for your nefarious schemes. This is herbal tea. You may have two full cups a day.”

Hux receives the tea with a glare that could melt a stardestroyer hull. “I need to get out of this hospital.”

“By the way, you have a visitor.”

“Not interested.”

“It’s your fangirl. Mana, was it?”

“Tell her to leave.”

“She seems awfully remorseful about what happened. I don’t think she knew what her gang was up to with the attack.”

“I don’t care about that. I just don’t want anyone to see me like that.”

“With the exception of me, right?”

Hux sighs. “Of course.”

“Well, what are you so embarrassed about? The hospital gown? You barely see it as long as you’re in bed. Just don’t try to stand up and show her your bare buttocks, as mouth-wateringly perfect as they are.”

“Very funny. I just don’t like looking weak in front of people.”

“Arm, you survived a vicious bombing and took some serious damage. There is nothing shameful about recovering after the injuries you got.”

“Still. We don’t have that kind of friendship.”

“Then do it for other reasons.”

Hux frowns at him.

Poe twirls his thumbs in his lap. “I think she might be just about ready to switch sides. All she needs is a little push and she adores you. If you talk to her I’m sure we could keep her from running off with that gang and doing something stupid and potentially deadly.”

Hux groans. “You had to play that card, didn’t you?”

“So you’re gonna do it?”

“I hate you.”

Poe looks at him expectantly.

Hux’s scowl easily outmatches Mana’s. “What are you waiting for? Bring her in.”

Poe beams at him, then he returns to the door, opens it, and waves the girl inside. She has actually paled a bit, fingers trembling, eyes big as she steps into the room. When she sees him, she blinks rapidly.

“Hey there,” Hux says. His voice has changed. It has become deeper and a bit gentler. “What the hell are you doing out of school?”

As she steps closer Poe stays at the door, studying the call panel next to the door frame to give her some privacy.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers when she stands at the bed. “I didn’t know… I didn’t think they’d do any of that. I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Well,” Hux says quietly. “I did.”

Silence.

“You think you know what you got yourself into because you got ahead in a little gang of rogues without laws and systems, but this is something different. Believe me, I know; I’ve been in that system and I’ve made it to the top in there. You can’t start liking people, because one day you’ll be told to betray and kill them. You’ll only have yourself, but even that’s not always guaranteed. You have to be ready for death by the hands of your own officers any moment.”

“Why? Why’d you stay if it was so bad?”

Hux heaves a dry laugh. “Because if I’d tried to leave, something like this would have happened. Only that the First Order wouldn’t have missed with that bomb.”

A sniffle. Poe tries very hard to read the fire safety instructions.

“What do I do?” she whispers.

Hux sighs. “You talk to that guy over there who’s acting so very badly like he’s not listening. He can protect you. Then you tell his friends everything you know and you stay the fuck away from those assholes for the rest of your life. How’s that sound?”

For over a minute no other noise sounds in the room but the quiet sniffs of the girl.

“What about you?” she finally asks.

“I’m not going back into the fight. Don’t worry about me; I’ll be fine.”

“If I join their side of the fight I can’t go back.”

“No, you can’t. But you’ll have other options. More than if you choose to join that damned order. All right?”

Silence again. Then, almost inaudibly, “Thank you.”

“You stay safe, kiddo.”

The floor creaks as she stands from the chair. Poe flashes her his most reassuring smile as she leaves the room. Then he turns to Hux, who has laid his head into the pillow and closed his eyes.

“That was amazing, what you did there.”

“It’s up to you now.” Hux’s voice grates like pebbles on an iron gutter. “Don’t ruin this.”

“Hey, this is what I do for a living. She’ll be all right. The Jedi will protect her and Leia will be delighted.”

“I’m sure she will,” Hux mumbles.”

Poe steps up to the bed and leans over to press a kiss to Hux’s forehead. “You should rest, you’re still in pretty bad shape. I’ll come back in the evening, all right?”

Hux nods without opening his eyes. His hand lifts, grasping the air. Poe takes it and holds it.

“Be careful,” Hux mumbles. “They might not have targeted you last time, but that doesn’t mean that you’re safe. I’d hate to have almost died to save your life only for you to throw it away the next day.”

Chuckling, Poe squeezes his hand. “You have such a cute way to tell me you love me, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started watching How to Get Away With Murder again, so next time I write a court scene I can use sexy phrases like "Objection, argumentative!," or "They are badgering my witness!"


	37. 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update because I'm going on mini vacation for two days and meeting a friend I haven't seen in almost a year!

Autumn showers drench Poe on his short way from the parking garage to the flat. He shakes his head like a wet dog before he enters the flat and locks the door.

“Honey, I’m home.”

“This,” Hux says from the couch, where he has stretched out with tea and biscuits and a reading pad, “is what my life has come to.”

Laughing, Poe takes off shoes and dripping coat and walks over to his boyfriend, who gingerly sits up to make room for him. “You look almost fully recovered. I wonder how much longer we can keep you away from work.”

“A week tops.” Hux purses his lips. “Almost everything bores me and my backside is pressed flat, but they put a cliff-hanger in _Med Station Cloud City_ and I have to watch it next Friday.”

“Let’s try two.” Poe presses a kiss to Hux’s temple. “I’m sure they’ll find another cliff-hanger to keep up the suspense.”

“If I have to stay home another two weeks I am going to rot into a heap of despair.”

“You don’t have to stay home, just off work. Go for walks; that’s what your Jedi bodyguard is for. Go see a few shows or take an actual trip to Cloud City, not the fake vacation you took while you were looking for clues.”

“You caught on to that, huh?”

Poe leans into the backrest and snuggles up to his boyfriend. “Arm, you’re cute but predictable. I always knew you weren’t actually going to relax.”

Hux sighs. “All right, enough flirting. Tell me about your day.”

Poe opens his eyes without answering at once. He stares at the coffee table covered in dishes. No matter how Hux acts, the injury still leaves him exhausted from even the simplest actions. It doesn’t bother Poe to do the cooking and the dishes; in fact he enjoys pampering his boyfriend for a few days.

“That bad, huh?”

He shrugs. “Leia’s request for additional funds went through. She’s gonna expand the army.”

Next to him, Hux’s shoulders tense. “So it’s decided. She’ll mount a proper mission.”

“Looks like it.”

“Poe…”

“I haven’t decided yet.” He moves away enough so he can look at Hux. “I don’t know what to do, but if the Galaxy is in danger… I don’t know how to sit back and let it fall back into chaos. I’ve worked so hard to keep people safe, I can’t just turn my back to that.”

“You’re not,” Hux says softly. “What you’re doing, here, on Coruscant, in the known parts of the Galaxy, is important. Don’t go throwing it all away, just because a juicy adventure awaits.”

“You know it’s not as easy as that. I have a duty.”

“You have done enough.”

“What about you? Aren’t you the least bit tempted to join?”

“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. Not allowed to join a military organization, not allowed to hold a weapon, remember?”

“You could join as a civilian advisor. Out there nobody cares who holds weapons. You know that’s just an excuse.”

“Why should I want to return to that life, though? Why should you want me to? What if I choose to switch sides? Do you really trust me with a weapon, out there?”

“Yes.” He grabs Hux’s shoulders to make him face him. “Arm, yes. I trust you, explicitly, of course I do. Wouldn’t it be nice to be on the winning side for once?”

Hux’s eyes move down his face to his chest in a gaze that leaves Poe yearning. “I like my life here. I don’t want to give it up wasting away on starfighters again, doing the whole tedious fight once more. Your general doesn’t need you and she certainly doesn’t need me.”

Poe presses his lips together. Hux is still recovering from injury and this is such a stupid thing to fight about, but his words still hurt. He has to bite his tongue not to lash out and say something he will regret later.

Ever since Leia has declared her decision to act before things turn sour again, as they had with the First Order, and take the fight to their enemies once more, Poe has felt the old pull again. The Galaxy is calling for him, giving him a reason to pick up his blaster, hop into an X-Wing and chase after the next adventure. His foundation is in good hands, that he knows. But he has built a life here. He does not even want to think about leaving his friends and his boyfriend behind for who knows how long.

“Poe,” Hux’s soft voice calls him back to reality. “Do you really want to give up everything for a little adventure that could kill you?”

And eight years ago he would have said he wasn’t afraid of dying. Now he has this. He has a home and a partner to come home to. He knows both Finn and Rey have dialled back their breakneck adventures after they had the twins. For the first time he understands how they feel.

“She hasn’t even asked me yet,” he says conciliatorily. “We don’t need to argue over something purely hypothetical, right? Let’s just drop the subject for tonight and talk about something sunnier, all right?”

An irritated frown passes across Hux’s face and for a moment Poe fears that he will insist on turning this into a fight, but then he ruffles a hand through his hair and raises his head to give Poe the first proper look since he came home. The frown eases up, turns briefly into something Poe cannot place – it almost looks like fear – and then softens into an endearing little smile.

“You’re right.” He lays a warm hand on Poe’s cheek. “Anything else happen today?”

“Not really. Checked up on a couple of clients. All good.”

“Mh-hm.” Hux leans in and fits his mouth to Poe’s. “What else?”

“Got a call from Rose. She demands an audit by the end of next year.”

“Scary.” A clever tongue sneaks past Poe’s defences and into his mouth. “Think we’ll pass?”

“Can’t see what could go wrong.”

“Did you log every bottle of champagne you spent on the last Starkiller Day?”

“All accounted for.”

Poe kisses back and for a few minutes neither of them talks. Hux’s tongue keeps him thoroughly occupied. Then a sneaky hand strokes down his chest, rubs his hip, moves between his legs. Deft fingers knead the bulge filling in response, teasing little bolts of heat under Poe’s skin.

He chuckles into Hux’s mouth. “Sir, that’s naughty. You’re still recovering from serious injury and the doctor has ordered you to avoid strenuous activities.”

“Has she,” Hux whispers back and kneads him harder. “Then you better don’t call her up and tell her in detail all the things I plan on doing to you tonight.”

The heat uncoils and takes away his breath. He moans softly, hand rubbing along Hux’s thigh. “Stars have mercy and leave me alive, please, sir.”

“No mercy,” Hux purrs and fuck, it jolts straight to Poe’s groin. “Nobody is going to save you tonight, rebel scum.”

Poe gasps, shivering. “Shit, say that again.”

“Rebel scum.” Voice rolling like thunder, hand doing away with Poe’s belt and trousers, and it leaves Poe scorching.

“Stars… fuck… Arm…”

“The door,” Hux whispers, already half on top of Poe. “You’ve locked it, right? No interruptions tonight.”

“None,” he whispers back, grasping for more thigh to hold on to. “Bolted and locked. I’m at your mercy, my cruel general.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done now, nothing bad could happen anymore, right?


	38. 38

Leia’s plan, once set in motion, moves much faster than even Poe anticipated. A week passes with hours of talk at the Skywalker Fleet headquarters, and tense avoidance of the subject at home. Every time he even mentions Leia or the mission to Hux, the temperature in the room drops by ten degrees. One day they will have to discuss this and at the current rate, it will be sooner rather than later.

Two days before Hux returns to work, Leia sits Poe down in her office and offers him a glass of brandy.

“You have to make your decision.”

“I need another couple of days.”

She shakes her head. “No couple of days. We ship out tomorrow.”

Poe starts. He blinks at Leia, who returns his gaze unwavering. “Can’t I… give it another couple of days and join you then?”

“Poe.” She sighs. “Just stay home. I need to know I can count on my men. I don’t need people who have to get their boyfriend’s permission to join my fleet and then don’t have the balls to actually make their decision. Once I’ve started the mission I must know who I can count on.”

“What about Finn and Rey? You can’t tell me they’ll stay the entire time.”

“No, they’ll fly back for the twins.”

Poe gives her a hard glare.

“It’s different. They have children. You have a petulant boyfriend who could join us but is too comfortable in the cosy little desk job you got him to get his arse moving.”

Poe squares his jaw. “Uncalled for.”

“So you’re staying?”

“Give me till tomorrow, please.”

“I need an answer.”

He stares out of the window. Outside, pilots are checking their engines and fighters are loading shuttles. The body of the fleet is staying in orbit, waiting for the fighters to fly up tomorrow.

“Leia…”

“There was a time when I could count on you,” she interrupts him. “Now tell me, Poe, is that man still in there somewhere?”

“That’s unfair. I have a life now.”

“Not much longer if these guys have it their way.”

“What about Kylo Ren? Have you given up on him?”

“Quite the contrary. We are hoping to find new trails once we enter the Unknown Regions.”

“Leia, I left the Fleet behind. Even if I join again now, how do you know I’ll even be useful to you?”

“Shit, company life made you soft,” she mutters. “Doubts? From my ace pilot? Is that your brilliant boyfriend’s doing, too? Does he tell you, you can’t do this anymore?”

Poe groans. He rubs his head with both hands. “You two are like fire and water, you know that?”

“I need an answer, Poe.”

He shakes his head for a full minute. Then he downs the brandy.

***

Clattering and thumping calls Poe to the storage closet the moment he arrives home.

“Sweetie, what are you doing there?” He stands with an amused smile, watching Hux working himself through a chaos of old boxes and cleaning equipment.

“Decluttering,” Hux grunts. “I need shit to do if I don’t want to lose my mind.”

“It’s just one more day, honey. Holy shit, the closet looks like someone dropped a bomb in there.”

“Once I’m done with it it’s going to be much emptier and better organized.”

“Sure it is.” He leans against the door as Hux picks up three half-full bottles of glass cleaner. “Is there any way I can help you?”

Hux shakes his head and chucks two of the bottles into a large trash bag. “Gratin is in the oven, should be ready in twenty minutes.” He sets down the last bottle on the floor and straightens up. “You’re late.”

“I was busy. Can you come into the living room for a moment? I need to tell you something.”

Like on command, Hux’s mouth thins into a line. He casts Poe a wary look as he follows him to the couch. As they sit down, he picks his space, back unnaturally straight, face expressionless.

“Arm, I talked to Leia today.”

“Hardly a surprise there. You’ve been talking to her almost every day.”

“Yeah, well.” He clears his throat. “Today has been different. They’re ready to ship out.”

“How nice for them. Did you say your goodbyes?”

“Arm, I’ve decided to join them.”

Rage flashes up in Hux’s face. He stands up and strides over to the window. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“I didn’t. I wasn’t sure, but Leia needs me. I can’t stay back.”

“Why the fuck not? Why is this so important that you think you’re indispensable?”

“You know who I am. You’ve always known that I couldn’t just stand back and let the Galaxy get taken over by bad guys. I need to move.”

He looks up, pleading, hoping against hope that something will still change. That Arm sees and understands.

“So you’ve told her yes?”

Poe nods. “We move out tomorrow.”

“To-” Hux huffs out in anger. “Tomorrow. Way to give you a heads up.”

“I don’t think she expected things to go so fast herself, but everything’s ready now. No reason to wait.”

Silence falls, filled with only Hux’s enraged huffs.

“Arm.”

Arms crossed, he stares out of the window onto the city. Poe doesn’t move from the couch; he watches Hux’s back, the tense line of his shoulders, the curtain of red hair covering his neck.

“Arm, you could come with me.”

“I have a life.” His voice is sharper than a knife’s blade.

“You could have more.”

“I don’t want more. I am happy as things are. Perfectly content. I have worked hard to get this life; why the fuck should I launch myself back into lethal danger?”

“Leia told me she could really use your help. You know more about the Unknown Regions and the guys we’re battling than anybody else. Please, just think about it.”

“I don’t need to think about it. I’ve left that life behind me.” Hux turns, eyes blazing. “How dare you try and drag me back into it.”

“You could do good, so much good. Imagine how much pain you could prevent. You could prove that you’re not that man anymore-”

“So that’s what this is about,” Hux hisses. “It’s about me redeeming myself. Still. Do I have to risk my own safety, throw away my own life, for you bunch to be satisfied? Do I have to repent for the rest of my life so you’ll leave me the fuck alone? Do I have to die to convince you, is that what you want? I have done everything I fucking can but nothing, nothing will ever convince you that I am good enough for you!”

He is shaking with rage. This should not be the moment for Poe to get angry, and yet, here they are. Again the old argument. There is no winning with Hux.

“Why do you have to turn all my words against me?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Why do you have to turn myself against me?” Hux’s voice is cold as ice.

“You’re not coming.” The colder Hux gets, the more Poe’s blood starts boiling. “You’re not even thinking about it.”

“Fuck, no. Don’t act so surprised. I never led you on. You’ve said it yourself; you know who I am. Stop trying to turn me into something I am not. I am not your goody-two-shoes, repentant little general turned lapdog that you can order around all in the name of redemption. I never wanted redemption! I am most certainly not going to waste my life on something as shallow and useless as this.”

“This,” Poe repeats, boiling over. “This is my life. This is what I fought to protect. The Galaxy wouldn’t even be here for you to lead you cosy little life and put up your feet at the end of the day if I hadn’t fought for it.”

“Thank you for reminding me. Apparently the hero worship every other person on this damned planet heaps on you isn’t enough for you yet. Leave, then. Save the Galaxy again. See if it makes you happy this time, if it changes anything!”

Poe has jumped up. They stare at each other, panting.

“I’m leaving. Just so you understand, this is final. Tomorrow I am taking my bag and leaving and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Hux crosses his arms. He throws back his head in a gesture of pure defiance. “Don’t expect me to wait for you like a good little wife, waiting for your call each night, fearing the news each day for notice of your death or gruesome injury. If you leave, this is it. You and I are done.”

“Well, that’s just great for me, since I really don’t appreciate ultimatums.”

Hux turns away. He stares out the window for so long Poe nearly forgets his anger.

“I’ll take the couch tonight,” he finally says quietly. “Tomorrow I’m out of here.”

“You can keep the apartment,” Poe shoots back. “I won’t be back for months.”

“I don’t want your apartment.”

He walks briskly over to the bathroom and slams the door shut and that is the last Poe hears of him that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel the urge to hit one or both of them over the head with a baseball bat, that's totally justified.


	39. 39

Leia herself comes to collect him the next morning. “Ready to go?”

Poe looks at his bag, then at the balcony where Hux is sitting, an untouched cup of coffee on the table next to him. “I suppose.”

She nods at Hux. “He coming?”

“No.”

Her eyes soften, a hint of pity stealing into her look. “All right.”

For a minute, neither of them talks. Leia is watching him and he is watching Hux, who does not move. Does not even turn around for a last goodbye.

“All right then,” he finally says and bends down to pick up his bag. “Let’s go.”

At the hangar, Finn, Rey and BB-8 are waiting. Rose is holding the twins, while Rey kisses their little foreheads, crying. Finn gives Poe a little wave.

“All right, buddy?” he asks when Poe steps up to him.

Poe nods, jaw tense. “Ready for take-off.”

“What about Hux?”

“Not coming.”

The same glint of pity that Leia had in Finn’s eyes. He lays a hand on Poe’s shoulder, than draws him close and hugs him.

“Sorry, bud.”

Poe returns the hug for a moment. The anger has subsided and made way for the sadness. He shouldn't have left the way they did. He should have tried to make up, suggested a way of making this work, something. The whole fight was stupid and pointless.

The only thing he does not regret is his decision. For the first time since they beat the First Order, his heart is singing in expectation. He has missed this.

“You’ve got it worse,” he mutters into Finn’s shoulder. “You have to leave behind the girls.”

“Yeah, but we’re flying back every couple of days. It’s fine; they’re used to the to and fro.”

Poe closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. At least he’ll have Finn again. Maybe it was supposed to be like this; maybe Hux and him were only good during peaceful times. This Galaxy, though, it never stays peaceful for long. His won’t be the only relationship that will break apart in the war.

“It’s gonna be a good mission,” he says to Finn as they board the shuttle, BB-8 in Poe’s trail. “We’re gonna save the Galaxy again.”

Finn grins at him. “Can you believe it? I’d say we’re ready to be heroes again.”

“I know I am.”

“Everyone on board?” Leia asks as the airlock closes. “Are we ready to do this thing?”

She is looking at Poe while she says it. He forces a grin on his face and raises his fist in the air. “Born ready.”

“Off we go then.”

The engine howls, the shuttle tremors.

“General Organa,” the pilot calls from her seat. “There’s someone on the hangar. He’s waving at us.”

Leia steps into the cockpit. “What the- Poe!”

He crams himself into the small space and follows her finger pointing at the man running across the hangar, a bag slung across his shoulder, nearly dislocating his arm trying to catch their attention.

His heart almost stops. “Arm. Open the door!”

The moment the ramp lowers itself to the ground, he thunders from the shuttle and halts in front of Hux, breathless, wild hope singing in his ears.

“Arm, what are you doing here?”

“Fuck,” Hux groans, gasping in air. “You’re really fucking doing this. You’re going on the mission.”

As he bends down to prop himself up on his thighs, the bag slips from his shoulder and hits the ground with a loud thud. It’s heavy.

“Yeah, I told you I would.”

“Fuck you. I’m coming with.”

Before Poe can register what he is saying, Hux straightens up, picks up his bag, pushes past him and stomps up the shuttle ramp.

“What?” He turns and runs after him. “Arm, are you serious?”

“Don’t make a big deal out of this. Are we leaving or not?”

“Are you sure about this?”

Hux stops inside the shuttle and gives him a long, hard glare. “Why aren’t we flying yet?”

Leia clears her throat. “You heard the man. Take us up.”

The shuttle vibrates and lifts off the ground. Thirteen pairs of eyes stare at Hux. He scowls back while Poe tries to wrap his brain around what just happened. Hux is here. He is standing in the shuttle, winded, red hair ruffled, wearing one of Poe’s flight jackets. This is real.

“All right,” Leia says. “Welcome on board. You’ve come at the right time. I was about to share the news that we have intelligence on Ben’s – Kylo Ren’s – whereabouts and that we’re going to go there first. Now, I know you are just a civilian, Mr Hux, but in your opinion what are our chances of winning Ben to our side if we ask really nicely?”

Hux has not taken his eyes off of Poe, who is grinning at him stupidly. Now he slowly turns his head to meet Leia’s eyes for the first time. Blazes, his profile is sharp. Has he always been this handsome? And brave, and sweet, and, oh, here, right here, right now, ready to go on the adventure of a lifetime together.

“It’s true that I am probably the one who saw Kylo Ren last before he vanished,” Hux responds without a muscle moving in his face. “And that I spent the most time around him in the First Order. But I never bothered to get to know him well enough. I could only give you half an answer. Someone else, someone who knew him on a more personal level, might have insights I don’t.”

At those words his eyes wander from Leia to Finn. Poe frowns. What is he-

Finn coughs. “I’d say we have a chance, yeah.”

Now everybody is staring at him. Poe’s heart does a little leap. What is Finn talking about, what does he know about Kylo Ren?

Everybody else in the room, including his wife, seems to be wondering the same thing.

Finn shrinks a bit into the console. “Kylo Ren and I used to be close when I was stationed on Starkiller Base. He confided a lot in me, about his doubts and the call to the light he felt… And recently, I’ve been feeling it again. He has an energy, unlike anybody else. I think he is waiting for us.”

Leia’s frown softens. She lays a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “If what you say is true, we owe it to him to try.”

He nods, eyes flitting between Leia and Hux, pointedly avoiding Rey’s. “I’d say so, yeah.”

Others crowd closer, barrage them with questions. Poe tugs at Hux’s sleeve and leads him into the corridor towards the back room. As soon as they have their privacy, he closes both arms around Hux and squeezes as hard as he can. Hux squeezes back.

“I’m so sorry,” Poe whispers through the lump in his throat. “I shouldn’t have forced you into this decision. I shouldn’t have-”

“Poe.” Hux moves away enough to look him in the eye. He cocks his head with a half-smile. “Can we not do the whole self-flagellation thing, please? I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s all good.”

Poe nods and presses a kiss to his lips. “Okay. I need to ask you something.”

Hux presses back with a happy little hum.

“Were you ever going to tell me that Finn used to date Kylo Ren?”

Hux snorts. “So you finally figured that one out, huh?”

“So it’s true!” Poe stares at Hux, every bit of his worldview shattering into pieces. “They used to date.”

“For a while, yes. It was ages ago.”

“Since when did you know?”

“Since always. I was there during their stealth visits and their long, boring-ass fights and their constant fruitless attempts to keep away from each other. It was a wreck from start to finish. They both weren’t happy. Finn was one of our best recruits, but he couldn’t keep up with the mess that was Kylo Ren and Kylo Ren was so fucking broken that all he could do was take and take and take and ruin everything. They broke apart in less than six months and afterwards I never heard or saw Finn again until he deserted. End of story.”

“Wow.” Poe takes several deep breaths. “And you never told me.”

“It wasn’t my story to tell. He obviously decided to keep it to himself. I didn’t care enough to change that.”

“But you knew. You always knew that about him. Did he know that you knew?”

“Yes, we talked about it once. Don’t be mad, okay?”

“I’m not.” Laughing, Poe kisses him again. “I’m impressed. Who’d have known you’re that good at keeping secrets?”

Hux sighs and melts a bit into Poe’s arms. “And now we have to go and get that messy bag of snot and tears back. Can’t say I’m looking forward to that.”

“It’s gonna be fine.” Poe pulls him closer again. “So can you tell me what made you change your mind?”

For a while Hux stays silent, arms looped around Poe’s shoulders, face in his neck.

“You,” he finally says. “I couldn’t let go of you. But more than that. I wanted… I was so fixated on making sure nothing upset the comfortable little life I had that I completely ignored that it was already upset. You were right; the reason why I could have this kind of life in the first place was because you had fought for it. And if someone is threatening the peace again, then no amount of closing my eyes and sticking my head in the sand is going to protect me.”

He lifts his head and gives Poe a soft look. “I don’t want to become civilian number nth billion dying on a planet someone decides to blow up. I like the life I have made for myself, but in order to keep it, I must fight for it. And this time, I’ll do it by your side. For us.”

Poe realizes he is beaming. Positively glowing. He grabs Hux’s face with both hands and kisses him again, a scandalously long and deep kiss.

“Can we please never ever break up again?” he then whispers. “I don’t think my heart could take it a third time.”

Hux chuckles. “Same here. This time we stick it out till the end.”

“And I’m not gonna let you die. We’ll both get back in one piece, all right? I won’t let you die and we’ll be okay.”

“Of course I won’t die; I’m a survivor, remember? You are, too. We’ll kick these sons of bitches back into the Unknown Regions and make sure they won’t show their faces ever again.”

“You and me, baby.”

The shuttle jolts as it docks on the starfighter. Smiling, Hux takes Poe’s hand and nods towards the exit.

“Give the orders, commander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know not everybody is going to be happy with this ending. (They're on the cusp of another adventure, why end now??) But for me it was either end it now or drag it on forever and I didn't want it to turn stale. For me the story was finished.   
> However! This is not the last I'll have posted on these two boys. I'll try to finish Queen of Naboo in the coming weeks. I am also working on another Hux/Poe ff that's going to be much longer, with a lot more plot (and smut, hehe). I am having incredibly much fun writing this new story, so I'm optimistic that you guys are gonna have fun reading it, too. As usual, I won't start posting before it's finished, but stay tuned.   
> Thank you so much to everybody who has read this story till the end. I always love talking with readers, so if you have questions or anything you want to talk about, don't be shy <3 (It might take me a while to answer, though)


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